What About Now
by littlee0618
Summary: AU. Harper Richards was adopted from birth. Her parents, Diane and Scott have given her a life full of love, and everything she could ever want. But as she prepares her college application essays, one topic sticks out most and leads her on a journey...to find her birth parents, Finn Hudson and Rachel Berry.
1. Chapter 1

Well hello! Happy August! I hope the rest of the summer is treating everyone well! I bet you're surprised to see me back so soon, huh? When the ideas hit you, the ideas hit you I guess. I'll keep writing Finchel as long as you guys keep reading it! This one is happier, I promise. No one is going to die. No one is getting abused. Maybe a wee bit of angst...but that's kind of expected, right? This new story is exciting because it's melding a topic I have been toying with for a very long time, plus kind of combines what I think a lot of people are interested in ;). It's also kind of bittersweet because it's the first fic I'm writing on my brand new computer! Old faithful had to be put to rest :( - yes, I'm sentimental - is everyone when they have to spend loads of money to replace something? ANNNYWAY. I hope you all enjoy this story. I'm going to try my hardest to update as regular as possible but please be patient - I'm a store manager now and life is kind of insane sometimes. But I will try to be as on the ball as possible!

Anyway, as usual I don't own Finn, Rachel or anyone who has in any way appeared on Glee. They all belong to FOX and RIB. I do, however, own any original characters, the plot etc. Artistic license has been taken so...be kind. :) Oh, and I don't own Yale. Cause I just don't.

* * *

What About Now

 **Chapter One**

Harper Richards pushed open the heavy door of her home and shivered against the blustery wind that followed in behind her. It was a beautiful fall day, despite the wind that clapped against her already flushed cheeks. She enjoyed fall usually, loved the falling leaves and the crunch of them under her boots once they hit the ground. But the nip in the air this year had arrived quickly and without a lot of build. Her alabaster white skin didn't seem to appreciate it either, with her cheeks reddening against the weather. She tossed her house keys down on the bench beside the double front doors, and her ankle boots and sweater coat followed quickly afterwards. The house was cloaked in a silence that wasn't unfamiliar; at this stage it was mostly comforting to come home to an empty house. The telltale tap of her puppy Samson met her ears, and a gentle smile graced her lips as the old dog came up beside her.

"Hey pup," she smiled as she patted the tall golden retrievers head. The dog looked up at her with wide, brown eyes. "Have a good day?" she smiled. The dog wagged his tail from side to side and the smile that had graced Harper's face widened. "You just slept all day I bet," she sighed as she righted herself and headed for the kitchen. Samson, for his part followed behind her dutifully. "Guess you want a treat," she sighed. "But not before I get mine." She reached into the cupboard and grabbed a glass before maneuvering to the refrigerator. She unearthed the freshly made orange juice her and her parents had gotten at the farmers market this past weekend and poured herself a healthy glass while Samson stared. When she put her glass down he tilted his head to look at her.

"You really know how to lay on the guilt," she chuckled. Instead of reaching into the fridge to grab herself an apple, she walked a few more steps to the left and took her time opening the pantry. She could feel Samson's eyes on her, and felt the thump of his tail against the tile. She kept the suspense going for a few moments before she turned around with the milk bone in between her fingertips. "Sit boy," she laughed. Samson did as she directed. "Good boy," Harper grinned as she gave him the bone. She washed her hands before she got her apple, and took a bite while her companion finished the bone. "Alright buddy, let's get you outside…" she smiled as she nodded towards the door. Samson sneezed his agreement as Harper chuckled, before opening the back door and letting him gallop outside. She shook her head as she watched the old pup run around the fenced in in ground pool. He always got frisky when the cooler air got to him, a memory that always came to her when the weather turned cool.

Harper let him back in once he had come clomping back to the back door. He was frisky, and for a moment danced around her legs while she stumbled to toss her apple core in the composter. "We'll go for a walk later," she laughed as he followed her into the den. Samson for his part seemed to understand, and found his bed next to the fireplace. Harper found her usual spot on the plush leather couch and picked up the remote to flip on the television.

She wasn't able to relax long, before the rumbling of the garage door opener shocked her from her otherwise comfortable position on the couch. She placed her hand on her heart, to calm the racing beneath her skin. She must have fallen asleep in the few minutes she had been laying there and she rubbed her eyes as her mother walked through the door of the garage. Her arms were laden with bags from the grocery shop she must have done after her work day ended.

"Need help?" she asked as she stood up and stretched.

Her mother, Diane chuckled a bit when she looked at her. "No, I've got them all…" she smiled. Instead of heeding what her mother had told her, Harper followed the taller brunette back into the kitchen.

"I'll help you put it away at least," she smiled as she started ruffling through the bags. Her eyes lit up when her eyes and hands landed on the bag of two bite brownies. Her mother slapped her hand gently.

"Don't," Diane laughed. "Those are for dessert, dinner first," the older woman chuckled. "Have…."

"Don't say have an apple," Harper laughed. "I already have…" she rolled her eyes and her mother nudged her gently.

"Then you're going to have to wait," she added with a laugh. "How was your day?"

Harper sighed.

"Same as always?" Diane questioned as she walked over the pantry and started to put some of the non-perishables she had purchased, in their designated spots.

"You know," Harper sighed while she picked at her nails. "Blah blah this is your senior year, watch your grades, yada yada yada."

Diane raised an eyebrow as she turned to her only daughter. "Senior year is so important. You should listen to that yada yada," she chuckled as she stacked a few bags of dry pasta.

Harper rolled her eyes. "Don't stress me out more, Mother," she laughed softly. Diane swatted at her as she walked passed her to get to the rest of the groceries.

"What's stressing you?" she asked as she held out the bag of grapes she had bought. She shook them slightly to encourage Harper to grab some. She shook her head.

"What isn't stressing me?" Harper answered as she jumped up and sat on the counter. Diane eyed her, but Harper appreciated when she didn't say anything. She leaned over and grabbed a few grapes and tossed one into her mouth. "You know, they're all talking up our college applications and all of that…as if there is any other place for me to go, but Yale," she sighed. She popped another grape in her mouth and chewed.

"You know how Dad and I feel about that," Diane sighed.

"How do you and I feel about what?" Her dad, Scott's voice filled the space as he walked into the kitchen and put his briefcase down on the counter.

Harper smiled as she watched her mother drop what she was doing and go to greet him at the table.

"You're home early!" She exclaimed as she rushed over and fussed with his jacket for a moment. Harper rolled her eyes but allowed a smile to cover her lips.

Her parents had always been like this, touchy feely, always loving on each other. It was easily one of the things she loved most about them.

"Meeting ended early, partners and I decided to allow everyone to get a head start on their weekend," Scott winked as he looked over at Harper.

"Harp, enjoying the view?" he laughed a little; a running joke about her habit of sitting on the counter. He obviously had missed whatever memo her mother was following. She quickly jumped down from the counter, but plucked another grape from the bag on the counter.

"Well, how about we take this opportunity and the three of us can go out for dinner?" her dad offered.

Harper perked up. "Can we get Chinese?" she grinned.

"Didn't we have that last week?" Diane protested. "And I just went grocery shopping."

"Come on Diane, live a little," Scott laughed. "I'll go change."

"Me too!" Harper grinned.

"I guess I'll put the rest of the groceries away myself," she grumbled as she turned back to the fridge.

* * *

Harper sipped on the lemonade she had ordered off the menu as she looked through the menu. She had been out voted, and some how they had ended up at an Olive Garden that wasn't too far from their house. She wasn't sure what she wanted, and the restaurant them around them was noisy while their table was in the typical silence that usually came with meals at their house.

"What you thinking about there Harp?" She picked her head up from the menu and looked across at him. "You going to get the fettucine alfredo like you always do?" he smiled.

"Not sure, think I feel like trying something new…just don't know what," she sighed.

"Everything okay?" he asked as he folded his own menu. Her father was predictable. She could pretty much tell anyone at any given time or restaurant which dish he would order. Olive Garden was usually the eggplant parmesan.

"Yeah," she took another sip of her lemonade. "Just a little stressed…" she sighed. She saw her parents exchange a look. "You know, school…"

"Right, the blah blah blah and yada yada you were telling me about while not helping me put away the groceries," her mom laughed while she sipped her wine.

"What can we do to help with that?" Scott asked.

"I don't know," Harper sighed. Their waitress appeared and asked about their orders. She dropped her eyes to her menu. She decided in the last minute to just go with her old favourite – just as her dad ordered some cheese ravioli dish off the menu instead of his usual.

Once the waitress was gone, both her parents had eyes back on her.

"College admissions," Harper said softly. "It's all they can talk about. The semester has barely started and their ramming it down our throats about due dates and applications and essays and…it's frustrating because I know what I want. I want to go to Yale. I want to go there and study Psychology and that is that," she said with finality.

Both of her parents looked at each other, and then looked at her. Scott was the first to speak. "Yale. You're completely sold on Yale. In Connecticut," he said slowly. Harper looked directly at her father. "You're so certain. Do you have a back up?" he asked.

Her father was a planner. Always had been, it was the only way Harper knew him to be. He worked as a financial planner throughout her entire life.

She remembered with fondness how scheduled their few drives to Disney World had been when she was smaller. She knew she shouldn't be shocked that he was asking about a second plan. But Yale was the plan. Always had been since they visited the campus during a summer vacation to visit family in the state it resided. It was his fault really, he had bred the dream. She had jut run with it.

"It's what I've been working for all these years," she whispered. "I don't really need a back-up plan. Do I?" she turned to her mother.

"You should always have a plan b," her mother sighed. It was a phrase that often echoed through their home.

"But I don't have one," she blew out a breath.

"So we need to make one. But that doesn't mean we should give up on Yale. Yale is the Hail Mary," her dad winked. He took a sip of his own drink, an iced tea with extra lemon before he turned to her mother to inquire about something that had happened at the dentist office she worked at.

* * *

Harper dragged her feet as she followed her parents into the house. She felt so enormously full, and she was serious regretting her choice in dessert. Fudge stuffed brownie topped with vanilla ice cream. She loved sweets, but as she cradled her stomach and wished she had worn leggings or yoga pants to dinner, she tried to remember why.

"You going to make it, kid?" her Dad joked as she kicked off her shoes and they hung up their jackets, in scary tandem.

"Shouldn't have had dessert. Why did you let me have dessert?" she whined.

"Didn't you know that desserts are just the universal answer to all of life's stresses?" Scott smiled. "Stressed spelled backwards is…"

"….just desserts," Harper playfully rolled her eyes. "You need new material dad. Don't you have all that free time to come up with new jokes since you hired that guy who's young enough to be your son?" she mimicked a snippet of their dinner conversation. Her Dad gently tried to swat her with the closest item, some hanging decoration her mother had placed on the handle of the hallway closet. She jumped out of the way just in time.

"Don't you have homework to start?" he called as she started to walk away.

"It's Friday!" she called back as she made her way for the stairs and started to climb the long case.

Harper made her way up to her room and closed the door slowly once she reached it. The room was large, and instantly brought her a kind of comfort she had long associated with the room. It had been different colours over the years, a soft pastel pink through her toddlerhood, a lavender during her elementary school years and now the walls boasted a soft blue that she associated with a perfect spring day. Her parents had given her many freedoms over the years, repainting and rearranging for hours sometimes until she was happy. The room itself used to be two separate rooms, but upon learning they had been chosen as her parents, they had soon begun the process of renovating to make it into the room she has now.

She was adopted from birth. Actually, according to the stories her parents had told her over and over again from the time she could ask for them; they had actually begun the adoption process before her birth and was completed by the time she was three months old. She had never really given it much thought aside from the times she had asked about her birth and how she came to be with them. Being adopted, she felt, had never defined her as a person. She had love, support, a caring set of parents and an often rowdy extended family she didn't see often enough. Sure, she and her mother shared few similarities outside of the hair colour they shared, they both loved volleyball and basketball – sports her mom had loved when she was younger, and had passed to her. Her father was the anomaly, the planner – he had strawberry blond hair and fair skin, something she used to identify as their striking similarity. She also liked to think she learned her passion for music from him, he played in a band for years and had been the one to first put her beloved guitar in her hands. She couldn't dance and could carry just a bit of a tune.

After a reflective moment, Harper slid into the cushioned chair she used at her desk. Her trusty Mac laptop sat on the surface, taunting her for a few long moments before she lifted the lid. The screen came to life the moment it was upright; a collage of photos from the summer served as her screen paper. It never failed to bring a smile to her face, the pictures she had chosen. She had had a fun summer, despite the long hours she put in working at a 'only open in the summer time' drive-in theatre as a concession worker. Some of her friends had been friends since she was a baby, some from the neighbourhood and some from school. All of them knew her story, all of them knew she was adopted – but no one ever treated her differently. She was a little envious sometimes, because most of her friends had siblings. But she tried not to let it get her down, because her family was perfect in its own way.

She clicked to open the internet, and leaned forward once the screen loaded. Her conversation with her parents over dinner had gotten her mind rolling, and as much as she denied it – she really should have a back up plan for school. As much as it pained her to admit, despite the fact that she thought her grades and extra curriculars were good enough, there was still the chance that Yale might not think so. She had gone over and over the guidelines, had met with her guidance counselor a few times, and she knew her anxieties about her applications were well matched. In every appointment Mr. Harris had tried to gently persuade her to pick a second choice and it wasn't until now that she finally conceded.

Mr. Harris had given her the names of colleges to think over, and while she didn't like the idea of being too far away from her family she began her search at the top of the alternative list – starting with Ohio State University.

She had to admit the campus was beautiful. It wasn't large and surely didn't compare to Yale but it was pretty in its own right. The psychology program seemed strong, as she followed the links to find out more about the program. She felt like she had gone down a rabbit hole of information as she followed through. She went down the list of suggested schools until finally she went back to Yale. She knew the website and the Psychology pages like the back of her hand. She had spent hours pouring over the pages, cross referencing and making sure she had everything they needed. She knew applications opened in a few weeks, but she still took a big breath when she saw the list of topics for entrance essays had been posted. She had been preparing for this, stalking blogs and coming up with practice questions.

But what she wasn't expecting, was one of the choices she was faced with.

 _Yale prides itself on being a strong historical institution with extensive origins. Our roots go date back to the 1700's. Reflect on your own roots and origins and discuss how they have made you the person you are today and what makes you stand out._

Harper sat back in her chair and let out a long sigh. This was a new one, a different question. None of the spots online had listed anything that was similar. She chewed her lip, and she began to scroll through the other options on the site. But her eyes and fingers kept scrolling back to the option about roots and origins. She focused in on the option, and crossed her arms over her chest as she hid her hands in the sleeves of the sweater that she was wearing.

She quickly closed the lid of the computer and leaned back in the chair with her head resting on the top, where the cushioning was softest. Her mind was running with so many thoughts. She wanted to stand out at Yale. She wanted to stand out, she wanted more than anything to be accepted to her dream school.

A knock sounded at the door that brought her out of her thoughts, and she wiped at her eyes to wake herself up a little.

"Harp? We're going to watch a movie, want to join us?" her dads voice came through the wood of the door. She stood up and went to the door. "I've convinced your Mom to watch a super scary movie….you in?' he smiled. Harper laughed a little. He looked so proud of himself. Scary movies were something both she and her father shared, and her mother despised.

"Sure…" she smiled softly.

"If you're too tired you don't have to."

She shook her head. "No, I want to," she smiled. "Just found the essay topics were posted…"

Her father nodded with a knowing shrug. "Well, don't worry about it right now, let's go scare the pants off your Mother. She's even letting us have M&M's in our popcorn," he winked.

Harper chuckled. "Let me put my pajamas on."

Scott nodded and turned to leave the entrance to her room to go back downstairs. Harper turned back into her room and tried to push down the feeling that was bubbling in her stomach.


	2. Chapter 2

Hey hey hey! I bet you weren't expecting to see a new chapter so soon, huh? Well, here it is! This story is kind of just pouring out...which is good for both me and you! Thank you so much for your amazing reviews so far - I hope you enjoy this next installment! Disclaimers from the first chapter still stand. I've taken some liberties in terms of realism/procedure - so please remember that. Further from that, enjoy!

Edit - I have changed her age due to a miscalculation. Sorry!

* * *

 **Chapter Two**

"Mine!" Harper called as she leaned forward in position, using her forearms to propel the ball back over the net. She took a deep breath and shook out her hands as she waited a beat so she was ready if the ball came soaring back at her. Her team was leading 2 sets to 1, and she could feel that the win was within their grasp. She kept alert as the ball was returned, but her teammate Kieran dove for it instead. She tried to keep her reaction to herself when she dove for it, and only managed to toss the ball back up into the air. She snapped into action in the split second for the move to happen and moved quickly to spike the ball back over the net, unreturnable, just as the timer went off to signal the end of the set as well as the game.

She followed her team mates to the net and walked across the gym floor, shaking hands with the opposing team. It was only their second game of the season and she could feel it in her bones that it was going to be a good season. Harper blew a breath between her lips as she walked off the court.

"That was quite a spike Harper!" her coach, Elena smiled as she held her hand up for a high five. Harper reached out and landed her palm against the older woman's hand.

"It was nothing," she laughed as she reached the bench they had manned and grabbed for her water bottle. She took a long swig as the cool water quenched her thirst. Everyone started to collect their things, and after she grabbed her things she went to find her parents.

They attended every game. She had been involved in many things over the years; starting with ballet – which she quit when she discovered the magic of ice skating. The cold sport only lasted one season – Harper quickly learned at the tender age of four that she hated being cold. From there, she tried soccer and even t-ball. But it wasn't until junior high that she found volleyball and she had been entranced ever since. And what helped, was that she was good at it. An added bonus was that her mother was a volleyball champ in high school as well.

"Good game Harp!" Harper snapped her head up and smiled when she found her parents walking towards her. She smiled and nodded, picking up her bag and slinging it over her shoulder as she did so.

"Your spike has really improved from last season," her Dad commented. He wrapped his arm around her neck and pulled her in close, planting a kiss on her cheek as he did so. The blush hit her cheeks for only a moment before it faded. Her parents had always been openly affectionate with her, for as long as she could remember. They were close, it was one of the things she always appreciated growing up, and physical affection in person was not something she ever shied away from. Harper knew it was different, and she was hesitant to call it weird because she knew some of her friends didn't grow up the same way she did – but it didn't bother her either way.

"I know," she commented modestly. "Guess all those afternoons at the gym with Mom really helped," she winked as they walked to the car.

Scott pretended to be offended for a moment, before he followed the two of them out to the car as well. Harper knew her father had spent as much time helping her practice; even if he wasn't nearly as good as Diane; over the summer.

"Come on Dad, I'll let you buy me a latte at Starbucks on the way home," she taunted.

* * *

Harper tapped her pencil against the surface of her desk as she tried to figure out the solution for the math problem in front of her. Math wasn't her strong point, but she tried really hard. She had gotten through the past three years with tutors and support from her parents. It helped that her Dad was good with numbers, and had a knack for making most algebraic equations make sense. But her parents were out, visiting some neighbours for drinks, and while she was invited, she had decided to bow out. Her pile of homework was calling her name, despite the fact that she would rather do anything but. She had a lot to accomplish, and she couldn't forget the application essay that was looming over her head.

She tossed the pencil she had been using and blew a breath of frustration between her lips. If she stared at the work book any longer, she felt like her eyes would go cross-eyed. For a brief, sarcastic moment, she wondered if an exceptional situation such as that would get her into Yale easier. The thought made her chuckle, and Samson whined from his perch on her bed.

"I know," she laughed. "It was just a joke, Sam," she chuckled. She packed up the book and pushed it away from her. She cracked her knuckles and reached for another binder. Nothing was keeping her attention tonight; she had a lot due and she just couldn't focus enough to pay attention to the tasks at hand. She looked up at the large calendar she had hanging over her desk and sighed. Different due dates lingered around the bright yellow paper. But her attention was continually drawing to the letters she had written in large, capital letters in bright red ink. CHOOSE YALE ESSAY TOPIC. She blew another breath and ran her fingers through her hair, wincing as her fingers tangled in the knots. She had let her unruly curly brown hair air dry after her shower this evening, and briefly she regretted it. She pulled her fingers from her hair and pushed her English binder out of the way in favour of her trusted laptop. She had pinned the topics in a virtual post it note on her desktop, and as the screen came to life she stared. And stared. And stared.

Her heart, and mind, had zeroed in one the one particular topic that at first had taken her by surprise. For the past week, her mind had tossed around the very idea, chewing on what she would write, what she would say within the word limits.

And each time she thought about it, drew different topics to the forefront, she kept circling back to one particular topic.

Her birth parents.

When one thought of their roots, surely…where they came from was where it all began, wasn't it? She grabbed for her English binder once more and hurriedly flipped to the blank loose-leaf paper at the end of the book. She tore it from the rings rapidly, and let it flutter to the desk in front of her for just a second.

Her birth parents were her roots. Their DNA was what had made her, _her,_ at the very basis of herself. The wheels turned rapidly in her mind as she quickly split the page she had torn out in half. She started to line each side with the pros, and cons of her subject choice. Once she had listed a few on each side, she sat back and looked at the long list on each side. She felt something turn in her stomach as she looked down at the paper and her heart started to race in that moment.

Her birth parents. Something struck her then and the adrenaline from a moment before fell flat and she was left with a feeling she couldn't quite pinpoint.

She had never really thought deeply about them before. Sure, she had always known she was adopted for as far back as she could remember. But her life with her parents was great. She was their world, she was sure of it – they told her as much many times, even now as she was getting older. But being adopted left a certain void that the more she thought about it seemed to grow bigger. It would be unfair to her parents who had spent their lives raising her, making sure she was loved, cared for and wanted for nothing, to admit that she had had moments over the years that she wondered about them – the two people that gave her life.

What did her birth mother look like? What did her birth father look like? Were they together when she was born? Were they still together? Did they have more children? Did they keep those children -if they did have more? Were they happy? Did they think about her?

She stopped herself before she got too far. Her pros and cons list outlined a lot of the questions she had and had always thought about.

The door opened downstairs and Samson immediately got up from his spot, clamouring to go and greet her parents.

"Harp!" they called. "We're home!"

She quickly closed the computer and followed Samson downstairs. Harper took the stairs one at a time, going slower than Samson who seemed over excited today.

"There you are," her mother smiled. "We brought you a plate from the Morgan's," she offered. "You were missed…"

Harper chuckled slowly. "Sure. I bet you guys were glad you had none of us underfoot." The Morgan's lived a few houses away from their own, and had been friends for years. They had two children who were both a few years older than Harper.

Her mother pulled the tinfoil the plate she brought home had been wrapped in. "Ohhh, cheesecake…." She smiled brightly. "Sure, I don't come and you guys bring out the good stuff," she commented. Harper took the plate from her Mom and headed around to the kitchen to get a fork to dive in.

"That's the way it works when you're parents," Scott laughed. "You only get the good desserts when you know you'll actually get some."

Harper rolled her eyes as she placed her cheesecake on the table before she pulled out a chair to sit. "I always shared with you guys…"

"Yes, but it was always either missing the icing or covered in your slobber," Scott joked as he reached for a piece. She tapped his hand.

"That's not true," she pouted. "I was great. Get a fork, Dad!"

Both Scott and Diane chuckled.

She ate the cheesecake, and moaned a little in delight when she was finished. She wiped her lips on the napkin her Mom had gotten up to get her, before she took a long sip from the glass of milk she had also filled for her.

"Did you get a lot of homework done while we were gone?" Diane asked. She reached for the empty paper plate and rose to go to dispose of it.

Harper sighed. She knew they would ask, as it was the reason she had bowed out of the meeting at Morgan's.

"Not really, I tried to get my math done, but I'm going to need your help on it," she sighed before she took a breath.

"We can take a look at it tomorrow," Scott assured. "We'll figure it out."

She nodded. "Did you get everything else done though?" She shook her head. "I got distracted by the Yale Essay."

Both of her parents sighed a little bit.

"Don't sigh at me like that," she laughed a little unsettled. "I think I've made a decision on which question I want to answer," she paused. She watched both of their faces for a moment. Harper hadn't meant to be dramatic about this; she hadn't even planned to discuss this yet with them. But when the moment is perfect, the moment is perfect she supposed.

Diane cleared her throat and she watched as she sat a little taller, and brushed at the fashionable jeans she had chosen to wear to the get together.

"I think I'm going to choose the question abut roots," she whispered softly. She took a deep cleansing breath as she moved her eyes to glance from her Mom, to her Dad and back again. "I think it's time that I learn about where I came from," she breathed.

"Harper," her Mother breathed.

She took a large gulp of breath and swallowed deeply. "I want to find out about where I came from," she rephrased. "I want to learn about and find my birth parents."

A silence befell the three of them, and Harper shifted in her chair uncomfortably. She knew it was a sensitive subject. She could read it on their faces, in that moment. She shrunk a little bit against her chair as she waited for them to say something. Anything, really.

"Can you say something? Please…" she whispered softly. "Either one of you?"

"Harper," her mother said softly. But she didn't say anything else. Harper found the way that her Mother said her name resonated in her mind, bounced around in what she imagined to be an empty space as silence surrounded them once more.

"Why now?" Diane asked. She had to clear her throat again, and Harper immediately felt bad. Her heart squeezed as she looked at her parents. She had dropped it on them, and she could see it etched in their features that it was the last thing they had imagined she would come out with.

"Why not now?" she shrugged. Harper leaned back in her chair and rubbed her back a little on the wooden spindles of the chair.

"You've never said anything before," her Dad asked after a long moment had passed.

She shrugged gently. "It has crossed my mind before," she paused as she saw their faces fall. She leaned forward and reached for a hand from each of them.

"It's just...I'm adopted. You've always been open about that fact. For that alone, I've always loved and respected you guys to a whole other level than I ever thought possible. You chose to love me," she sighed. "But now, this question has just brought up a lot of other questions that I have. Most of them are about them and in turn…who am I, really?"

"You're Harper Frances Richards," Scott whispered. His voice sounded thick and Harper immediately wanted to take back every word she had uttered since they had come back into the house. The parents that had walked through the door were not the same parents that were sitting in front of her now.

"I know that," she sighed. "That is what I know. But what I don't know? Why I have curly brown hair that gets super frizzy when it rains. Why am I so tall, at 17?" she asked. "Why can I sing? Neither you or dad can carry a tune," she sighed. "I have a lot of questions….and if I can get them – it would help me out in the long run." She slumped in her seat slightly, allowing her shoulders to fall forward and her hands to clasp in her lap. Samson's nose wedged underneath her leg, trying to get her attention to comfort her. He was always in tune with her emotions. Had been since he was a puppy.

"Are you doing this, for the essay?" Diane asked slowly.

Harper took a moment to take stock of what she was asking. She played with her Alex & Ani bracelet to collect her thoughts. "Well, it definitely brought the thoughts to my mind. It opened a lot of questions that I think I've kind of pushed them away." The words seemed to just spill out, and she couldn't stop them once they were out in the air. They seemed to hang there, and she wanted badly to pop them like a bubble.

No one said anything, but she could see the wheels turning reflected in her Mom's eyes.

"I don't want to upset you," she offered quietly. "That's the last thing I want to do…"

They both nodded, almost scarily in sync.

"I guess," Scott cleared his throat. "I just need to know that you're really wanting this. Because it's not going to be easy. I don't want this to just be for the essay, to give yourself an upper hand for Yale."

She chewed on what he asked of her for a moment. She sat up straighter. "I want to know who they are. I want to find them," she said with surety.

* * *

Harper sat in the living room, perched on the couch as she watched her father pace the kitchen perimeter, and then disappear from her line of sight into the small dining room that was attached. He was clutching their home cordless phone to his ear, but she couldn't hear anything. Her mother was sitting across from her; Harper felt like her heart was about to beat out of her chest. She felt anxious – well what she felt like anxiety would feel like. She couldn't read her mother's facial expression and she wasn't sure what that meant.

"Mom," she said softly. "This doesn't change how I feel…"

"Harper," Diane sighed, stopping her short from whatever she was going to say. "Just sit tight and see what Dad says…"

Harper shrunk back into the couch more. "Just tell me you're not upset with me," she pleaded.

"I'm not upset," Diane responded quickly. Almost too quickly for Harper's liking. She pulled her lip between her teeth and tugged. Her shoulders sank at her Mom's words. But she sat up quickly when she heard her Dad put the phone down in the other room. She waited with baited breath for him to come them, and wasn't disappointed when his heavy footsteps trailed into the living room. She sat up straighter when he came to stand in front of both of them.

"That was Paul," he said with an air of authority. Harper looked to him for clarification, she didn't know who Paul was. She twisted her fingers in her lap.

"He was the primary lawyer who helped us with your adoption," he cleared his throat and his voice dipped. Harper tried not to let a nagging feeling enter her mind, but it was hard to suppress.

"What did he have to say?" Harper asked softly. Her fingers twisted more in her lap, faster. Suddenly her nerves were creeping up, getting the best of her.

Scott took a deep breath and moved to sit beside her, but his body was turned to face her both her and her mother.

"He was surprised to hear from me," he sighed. "He was working late on a case in the office. I hadn't been expecting to talk to him directly."

Harper nodded. She understood that this was an unusual circumstance, but she was grateful nonetheless.

He took a deep breath before he spoke. "He reminded me that when we adopted you, your birth parents had requested a closed adoption," he relayed.

Harper didn't know exactly what that meant, but in the moment she felt her hope fade just a little.

"That means that their identities are sealed, and we have no way of accessing the information without petitioning the court to unseal the documents," he lamented, while using air finger quotes around the word unseal.

"So, let's just do that then…petition the court," she shrugged. She felt the little bit of hope that had slipped through her fingers come back up in that instance.

Harper watched as her Mom and Dad exchanged a look. "What?"

"It's not that simple, Harper," he sighed. "It's a lot of paper work, and a court date…and there's always the chance that a judge could say no."

"But there is always the chance that the judge could say yes," she answered firmly. "And I want this. So shouldn't we at least try?"

They exchanged another look, and she could sense that both her parents were trying to have a conversation, strictly through their eyes. She sighed deeply and Harper slumped back into the couch once more.

"I want this," she said firmly once she had collected her thoughts enough, repeating her sentiment. "I want to know where I come from. Isn't that enough to go through with this?"

"Harper," Scott sighed.

"Dad," she stammered. "I'll do it alone, if I have to…" her lip trembled. "I don't want to, but I will…."

"Harper Frances," Diane said firmly. Harper's skin crawled a little at the sound of her full name, reserved for only the few times she has been in big trouble.

"I wouldn't dare dream of letting you do something of this magnitude, alone."

Harper's eyes welled slightly at her words. She knew her parents always had her back, but she knew that it would be hard on them to help her find her birth parents and to have them accept with open arms…. meant the world to her.

"Paul will see what he can do on his end, but we do have to go see him tomorrow after school to discuss it further," he said firmly.

She nodded. "I'll come straight home from school. I don't have practice so I can be home right away."

Scott and Diane both nodded in tandem. She loved when they did that. Harper leaned over and hugged her Dad tightly. "Thank you Daddy," she whispered against his cheek.

"Don't thank me yet," he whispered.


	3. Chapter 3

Quick note - I've taken some artistic licenses with places in the next chapter. There actually is a town called Cottage Grove in Oregon, but I have never visited. Alas, the liberties have been taken with the scenery etc. All I know is what I've learned from google. It looks like a pretty town! Anywho, enjoy.

Also - I have made an edit to chapter two. Harper refers to herself as being 18 in a conversation with her parents. She should have said she was 17. My mistake. :)

* * *

 **Chapter Three**

The roar and clapping of the crowd gave Rachel Berry a rush. It was the same every night; it didn't matter that she had been doing this for years. She soaked up the applause and bowed gently at the waist with the rest of the cast. The sweat from the hot lights pooled at her brow, but she tried to soak in the moment. When the curtains finally closed, Rachel let her shoulders fall to a more comfortable position. She received and reciprocated some of the high fives that were offered to her from both cast and crew alike as she walked off the stage and headed for her dressing room.

She wasn't as young as she used to be, so she needed a few quiet moments to gather her thoughts and her breath even before she headed out. She knew there was probably a crowd waiting for her at the stage door. There was always a crowd, and she loved meeting fans and signing the artifacts they thrust at her. It was something she had built her career on; meeting fans at the stage door and getting to know them. It was more thrilling, to her, than the lights on the stage. Making a connection with her fans and audience members – hearing how good her performance was, really filled her up.

Rachel quickly shed her costume, choosing to grab her favourite designer jeans, an embellished long sleeve and her iconic pink coat. It was only early fall, but she was eternally cold she felt. It also seemed to be a favourite of her fans, and since they were what she lived for – she would wear it until the threads fell – even if she had a replica waiting in the wings, a gift from a former flame.

Rachel was just about to vacate her dressing room; all candles that had been lit during intermission were blown out – she had checked each one at least once, when a solid and firm knock came at her door. She hadn't been expecting anyone, and previous run ins with stalkers and unsavoury people left her uneasy.

"Songbird, it's me," the voice of Carter Franks came through the door, and she felt her skin prickle despite the clothing she was wearing.

Her and Carter Franks had broken things off the week before last. She chewed her lip as she waited for him to say something again. It wasn't that she was afraid of him, she wasn't. He was a kind gentleman that just did not fit her lifestyle. Their relationship had naturally run its course. She had no idea why he was at her door now….it had been over a week since she had told him goodbye. She blew a breath from her lips and straightened her jacket before she went to the door.

"What are you doing here?" she asked calmly as she opened the door, just slightly. She didn't want to seem like she was inviting him in. She wanted to get out to her fans.

"I came to see the show. Remember? You gave me the tickets, I didn't want them to go to waste," his smile wasn't overpowering and she had to guard herself against the feelings that it usually enticed in her, still fresh in her mind – still painful to remember.

"I see that," she said firmly. "But why are you back here? I need to go…."

"I just wanted to see you," he shrugged. He kept hold of the flowers he had tightly in his fist, and Rachel had to wonder if they were for her or not. He had always bought her flowers and the ones he was holding were her favourites. Of course he knew which ones were her favourites. They had been together for a year.

"You saw me," she sighed. "Now, if you'll excuse me."

"Right," Carter sighed. "The fans are waiting. I just thought you had maybe changed your mind," he grumbled.

Rachel sighed deeply. "Carter, please," she quietly begged.

He backed up and held out his hands. "It's fine. It's fine," he still held the flowers captive in his fist. He shoved them at her in a blink, and Rachel had to bend her knees a bit to catch the awkward toss. She grabbed them by the stems and watched mouth agape as he stormed off. Her jaw dropped, more in irritation than anything else. They had split amicably or at least she thought. He had wanted her to quit the show, quit Broadway – like that was even an option. She closed the door behind him firmly as he had started to walk away. Rachel eyed the flowers, the white tulips that she usually loved. Instead of adding them to the vase on her vanity, she aimed them for the garbage and only shrugged a little when they missed and in effect knocked the garbage over as well. She didn't bother to turn around and pick up the garbage. She knew someone else would be by to tidy up, vacuum, that sort of thing. She had fans to greet.

* * *

Finn Hudson dropped the wrench he had been using to try and get the transmission loose. He stood up and wiped his face to free himself of the sweat that was forming on his brow. It was a bitch; the car was older and the way it was situated was killing his back, burning his fingers and just all around not working well for him. But he had to get it out, it was trashed and he needed to rebuild it. He wiped his hands on the towel he had stashed on his tool bench and wiped his hands, before he reached for the large insulated water bottle he had filled to the brim with water and ice. The longer he spent in the garage, the hotter the temperature rose. The only windows were located at the back of the shop, and they were open … but the weather was abnormally warm for early September and he wasn't getting much of a breeze. He would normally open the bay door, or even the customer entrance door … but he was closed, and he didn't want to give anyone the impression that he was here. He needed to get a head start on this transmission rebuild and every moment he was interrupted by someone who wanted to schedule an oil change or tire rotation, were moments he lost on getting ahead of this project.

He closed off the water bottle and put it down, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand to get rid of the moisture that lingered. He breathed deeply and went back to the old sedan in front of him and immediately bent his head to try again. He would get this out, one way or another.

Finn liked what he did for work. He provided a service and he had a client list that was growing what seemed like the second. It was almost triple what it had been just a few years ago, even for the size of the town he lived in. While it was sometimes a thankless job, more of a necessary service for some patrons, it wasn't always that way. His regulars were good to him and he could count the amount of times he had received bottles of wine, beer….dishes that he would admit saved him time in the kitchen – time he didn't necessarily spend anyway. He knew it wasn't necessarily "average" or "customary" to get gifts – he was only a mechanic. But in his little piece of Oregon for some people it seemed to be second nature. He'd chosen the small town what felt like ages ago. He'd stumbled upon the small, quiet town of Cottage Grove on a backpacking trip through Oregon over 17 years ago, and once he had found a soft place to land – he had never looked back.

He liked it here. It was quiet. People left him alone. They praised him, when they had the opportunity, for doing his job well and helping them out. He used his skills to make people happy – even if what he was doing wasn't exactly what he had pictured of himself in high school and the years before that. Finn had once dreamed of being a teacher, being a leader – he had been that, in a previous life it seemed. But now he was here, now he was a mechanic and a damned good one at that.

Finn returned to the task at hand, and tried to loosen the bolts once more. They were buried in rust and caked in grease and he really had to put his weight into it to try and get it going. He puffed his cheeks and blew a breath tightly from his lips as he finally got the bolt to come loose – only for it to snap and disintegrate in his hand.

"Shit," he swore under his breath as he looked at the snapped piece of metal. The car was old and now he was a little leery that he would be able to save the transmission at all. Finn tossed the broken pieces into the small bucket beside him and went after another piece. The repetitive motions that sometimes came with car repair – twist, turn, pull – were methodical for him, and even sometimes soothing when it wasn't so intensely frustrating. And this project was leading to be the most infuriating he had in awhile.

* * *

Rachel pushed open the door to her condo and let the door slowly close behind her. She waited for the telltale click that told her the door was closed, followed by the three beeps that signaled to her the lock had engaged, her security system was on and she was safe. She walked further into the large bright space and dropped her pink coat so it landed, albeit perfectly and neatly folded on to a tall backed bench that served as a collect all in the open foyer. She let down her long brown hair, pulled it loose from the hair tie and bobby pins she had secured it up with before she exited the theatre. She brushed her hair with her fingers slowly, wincing when she caught her long digits on the knots that had tangled in the mean time. Her large claw tub that sat in her bathroom was calling her name, as were the sweet smelling candles and lush salts that she had just stocked up on from her favourite online retailer. She shifted her shoulders, rolled them to relieve the tension she could feel building in them from her run in with Carter and the toll the show had taken on her body. The thought of a warm tea overrode the thought of a warm bath for a second, and she moved to the white, open aired kitchen without a second thought. She almost tripped over the small stuffed mouse that was in the middle of the floor; how she missed it she wasn't sure because it was bright green. She nudged it with her foot, and her grey and white tabby cat Cosette came running when the small bell inside jingled.

"How nice of you to join me," Rachel smiled as she put the kettle on. The small cat maneuvered in between her legs, meowing as she did so. "Is that so?" Rachel giggled as she listened to the cats sounds. "Well, it sounds like you had an exciting evening all by yourself. How about some food?" she smiled as she moved away from the stove and headed for the cupboard where she kept Cosette's kibble. Cosette followed her every move as the kettle started to whistle, and as soon as the small ceramic bowl was full enough to her liking the small cat side stepped around her hands to get at the food.

"Well sorry," she laughed under her breath. She put the container away and washed her hands before she went to fix her mug of tea to her liking.

* * *

Finn stayed much at the garage much later than he had originally planned. He walked into the small bungalow he had not only owned but renovated by his own hand and allowed himself to slam the door behind him. The old oak door was heavy and hit with a loud bang. But to Finn, the sound was in an odd way, comforting. He heard the telltale tap of nails against the restored hardwood floor, and smiled when his five year old Bernese mountain dog, Huck. When the dog had him in his sights he bent down on his front legs before he stretched and scampered over to him.

"Hey pal," Finn immediately bent to rest on his knees and allowed the large dog, who most days acted more puppy-like than a dog his age and started to scratch his head. Huck went wild, enjoying the feeling and eventually flopped over on to his back to allow Finn to give him a belly rub. Finn laughed heartily at the older dog and happily obliged for a few minutes before he stopped. "Wanna go for a walk?"

Huck quickly rolled over to a standing position and jumped a bit with his front paws. Finn laughed, standing himself to go get the dogs retractable leash. Huck excitedly followed.


	4. Chapter 4

I'm so glad you guys are enjoying this! It's flowing pretty easy, so I hope you enjoy this next installment. I can't promise updates will always come this quick - as you know I work in retail (management, now - YAY!), and the busiest time of year is speeding towards us like a freight train. But hopefully I'll be able to keep up with this story fairly regularly too. Anyway, enjoy! This one is a little longer for you ;) 

* * *

**Chapter Four**

Harper waited on pins and needles for the garage door to open. Samson lay at her feet, covering her bare toes with his fur and keeping them warm. The pose also kept her anchored to the plush couch, preventing her from pacing around the room in an anxious pattern. She toyed with her fingers, played with the ring she wore on her right hand, on her middle finger – a gift from her parents for her 16th birthday. None of the actions brought her comfort. She was a bundle of nerves, and unsure what to do about anything until her father arrived home.

The school day hadn't been as much of a distraction as she had hoped. It had almost been painful to an extent, sitting in her assigned seats in her designated classes, listening to information, that at the moment seemed pointless to her. Her mind hadn't allowed her to focus much on what was being taught as it was, her thoughts continuing to drift back to what her father was going to do for her. The cycle would begin again as she thought about the meeting she and her father were going to have with Paul, the lawyer who had, by her father's admission, handled her adoption.

Harper jolted when she heard the garage door rumble to life. Her father's car pulled in and she heard the beep he promised her the night before he would do. She jumped to her feet, startling Samson and ran for the door, jamming her feet into sneakers and grabbing her clutch as she went. 

Scott laughed as he watched her slam the door to the garage closed behind her. He hit the unlock button on his door console so she could fling herself into the seat beside him. She landed with a huff, her cheeks blowing out as she righted herself.

"Well, hi," Scott smiled. "I got you a latte from Starbucks," he offered as she clicked her seat belt.

"Great. Let's go," she hurried as she reached forward to take the latte from the holder in front of her. "Please," she added as an afterthought.

"Alright, alright," Scott sighed as he put the car into reverse. He placed his arm on the back of her seat and headed out to the street, reversing the direction he had just come from.

The drive to the office of Paul Stewart made Harper even more anxious than she had been all day. The man they were about to see, in her mind, had all the answers. He was a lawyer after all. She crossed her arms over her chest as they hit red lights, stop signs and after work traffic. She looked out the window, tried to focus her other attention elsewhere.

"Do you have the file?" she asked abruptly as they came to another stop. Her anxiety was bubbling as they made their way into the city. She didn't know how to control it.

"It's in my brief case," Scott assured.

After the discussion with her parents last night about moving forward with searching for her birth parents, the three of them had sat down to discuss – what they do know.

Her parents, as wonderful and amazing as they are, didn't have a lot of information on the background end of things. They had adopted her from birth – they were there from the moment she came screaming into the world; her parents' words, not hers. They had both told her the story a million times through the years; how they had waited in the waiting room of New York Presbyterian and Mom had known from the moment they had heard (what they assumed) was her cry, they had been in love. She had been placed in their arms a day later – when they were able to take her home – and never left. Both had always been open, honest and free with the information they did have – most of which surrounded how she had come to be in their lives. When she was a little girl, she loved to hear the stories. She still did, but it all seemed to have a different light now. So, she listened with open ears and tried to absorb everything they said, even if it was by osmosis.

Her parents – her birth ones – had chosen her adoptive parents; a label that just didn't taste right on her tongue – from a file that had been produced by the agency they had used. Admittedly, her parents told her they tried not to get their hopes up too high. They had been down the same road before, admitting to two failed placements before they were chosen for her.

When she had learned that, her heart broke a little for her parents. And it even made her sit back a little, think about what she was doing. But she had dreams. She wanted to know who she was, at the very bottom of her DNA. Because she knew who Harper Frances Richards was…but who she was beyond that, was a mystery.

Harper took a final swig of her latte as her father pulled into the parking lot of the small business office in front of her. She didn't know what she was envisioning when her father said they were going to see the lawyer in the city, but the small three story building in from of them was not what she had envisioned.

"Let's go," Scott smiled. "We have to move fast, he's staying late just for us…"

Harper nodded and put the empty cup back into it's holder before following her Dad out of the car.

She was suddenly very nervous. 

* * *

Harper felt the anger and upset bubbling in her stomach, carrying up to the very basis of her brain as they walked out of the building. She didn't say a word to her father as she stomped three to four steps ahead of him, getting to the car first. She was thankful in that moment that he didn't say anything, because he had said enough in the office and she was sure he would have more to say in the car and at the house. She could just feel it, and right now she was too angry to give a damn.

Going to the lawyer's office was a joke. She had pinned all of her hopes, all of the answers she needed on one meeting with the lawyer.

But she had been wrong.

He couldn't help them. It wasn't as easy as getting a judge to hear her side of the story or filing paper work. It was harder than that, really. And she hated that she had gotten her hopes up. As she slammed the door to the car, she let the annoyed grumble of frustration slip from her lips. Scott slid into the car after her, gently placing his briefcase in the backseat after he did so. She appreciated that he didn't say anything in that moment, choosing instead to start the car and the drive back to the house. She crossed her arms over her chest, and they remained firmly there while they made the journey.

When they got home, she was out of the car before her Dad had time to turn off the ignition. She could feel his eyes on her as she stomped through the garage and into the house.

"Hi honey! How did it…" Diane called, coming out from the kitchen to appear in the hallway. She stopped in her tracks when she saw her. "Oh…."

Harper stomped into the house and kicked off the sneakers that were on her feet. She didn't say anything at first, and just as when she had stepped out of the car, she could feel her Mother's eyes on her as she moved through the hallway to hang up her jacket.

"So, I take it didn't go well?" Diane asked slowly.

Harper let a slow, frustrated breath leave her lips in that moment. She didn't turn to face her at first, for fear that her emotions would take the lead and she would explode. The door to the garage opened behind her and she quickly turned to avoid coming face to face with her father. She sighed once more when she found herself staring right back at her mother. The look of confusion on her features did little for the way she was feeling.

Scott spoke up as he put down his briefcase behind her. She dashed to the living room when she heard the item hit the floor. She wasn't ready to talk about it, she was too angry. She found Samson in his usual spot and she went over to him without thinking, and laid down to cuddle beside the puppy. She could still hear her parents in the hallway.

"He said he can't disclose any identifying information about her birth parents," Scott said softly. Harper laid her head down beside Samson. She sighed when Samson reached his paw to touch her head.

Diane sighed, it was loud enough for Harper to hear in the living room.

"He said it was one of the things that make finding birth parents difficult in the state of New York. The state is one of the hardest, as there's a law that all files are sealed. It makes it even more difficult, since it was a closed adoption at her birth parents request. There isn't a lot of wiggle room, so to speak, with being able to get the file unsealed. It's a government thing, and not even the courts or adoption agency will be able to release the information that she wants. I misspoke when I told her about talking to judges and petitioning courts," Scott relayed with his own frustrated sigh.

Harper didn't hear her mother's response at first. She had heard it all at the office, and it had sunk her then. She buried her face in Samson's fur and tried not to let the tears of frustration fall from where they were parked in her eyes.

"So what happens now then?" she heard. She heard them walking away, and she knew instinctively they were heading for the kitchen. She could smell the dinner her mom had prepared, chicken parmesan – one of her favourites – but despite the smell of the salivating food, she couldn't bring herself to move from her spot.

She didn't want to think about what happens now. Her parents moved further into the kitchen and she could barely make out what they were saying. Harper gently reached for Samson and ran her fingers through his fur. 

* * *

Diane handed Scott a glass of wine before she dished out the dinner she made while they were away.

Scott leaned against the counter and took a sip of the amber liquid. "Paul said we could petition the courts, see if we can get them to unseal it. But he said most of the time unless it was for medical records that weren't disclosed during the adoption, it's a waste of time," he sighed softly before taking another drink. "Harper didn't seem to like what he had to say," he added as an after thought.

"Did you think she would?" Diane asked softly as she walked back to him after she placed the plates on the table.

Scott shrugged. "I just thought maybe, she would understand…" he sighed. "I mean, I know this is something she wants…" 

Diane nodded. "I know," she sighed softly. "This is what I've been worried about this whole time. That it wasn't going to be easy, that there would be disappointment that neither of us can fix." 

Scott nodded his understanding. "We'll just have to play it by ear," he mumbled as he took another sip of his drink. He put the glass down and pushed himself up off the counter that he had found himself to be leaning on. "I'll go find her. See if she'll come eat…"

Diane nodded before she headed to the table while he went off in search of Harper. 

* * *

Harper heard his footsteps, and immediately knew that it was her dad and that he was coming for her. She only knew how close he was when he came to sit down beside where she had curled herself with Samson.

"Somehow, I knew this is where you would be," he sighed as he pulled his knees to his chest as he sat beside her. She didn't respond at first, instead choosing to burrow her face further into Samson's soft fur. "I know you're upset…" she heard. Harper raised her head for a moment, to look at him. He held his hand up to defend himself, and she sighed. "But Mom made chicken parmesan and it smells good enough to make me drool," he offered.

She contemplated his words for a minute. She was too disappointed/hurt/upset to eat but the food she could smell from the kitchen was not only her favourite, but it smelled delicious. She felt her lips twitch. "I'm not hungry," she whispered.

"Will you just come sit with us then? Maybe we can talk…"

She sighed, and rolled over to face away from her Dad once more. She buried her face into Samson's fur and sighed. The old dog moved a bit and curled his large body around her in a familiar protective position

Scott sighed. "Alright, that's fine. I understand. When you're ready Mom and I are in the kitchen…" She felt him gently lean over and place a kiss on her head. She sighed deeply once she felt him stand up and heard his footsteps retreat into the kitchen. Harper closed her eyes once she felt like she was alone with Samson in the living room.

"What are we going to do, huh old boy?" she whispered. She opened her eyes and gently ran her fingers through the fur at the top of his head. Samson seemed to sense that she needed something from him, and gently moved a paw to touch her shoulder before she maneuvered out of her grasp and stood up. Harper watched him shake as he stood up and trotted off to the kitchen, where his bowls of food and water were kept. "I guess that's your way of telling me I should go eat," she murmured as she stood as well.

She walked slowly into the dining area of the kitchen. She couldn't be sure, but the moment she stepped up to the table it seemed like the conversation they had been having came to a halt.

"Smells good," she whispered. Diane was on her feet as she pulled out her own chair.

"I'll get your plate," she smiled slowly, before she moved to the stove where she had stored Harper's plate to keep it warm.

She reached for the water jug while her Mother grabbed her dinner, and she offered her Father a small nod in response to the silent smile he was offering her.

"Here," Diane smiled as she rushed back to the table with the plate. Harper salivated at the smell of the dish, it was in the top five of her favourite things her Mother made. She only wondered for a moment if she made it tonight on purpose, but was too hungry to care once the dish was in front of her. "I hope it's good. I had to use jarred sauce," she offered.

Harper nodded and grabbed her fork and knife, digging into the food on her plate. She thought if she kept her mouth full, her parents may not try to engage her. She didn't want to talk at the moment, because she didn't know how she felt. At the forefront she felt disappointed, but she wasn't sure how to express that to her parents and expect them to understand it didn't mean she was done with her search. As she ate, she was grateful that her parents seemed to be picking up on her cues, and didn't prod or pester. There were no details to tell, her Dad had already divulged those. Instead, when they did direct their conversation to her, her Mother chose to ask about school.

"I have a history quiz on Friday," she sighed softly as she finally put down her fork. She had eaten most of what was on her plate and paused to both take a drink of the lemonade her Mom had gotten her. "I'm not really looking forward to it."

Both of her parents nodded. "So, you'll be up to your knees in studying tonight then?" Diane asked. Harper tried not to note the swirl of unease that seemed to dance around her question.

"Yeah," she sighed. "I guess I should. I can't focus just on history though. There's some math sheets and a Spanish passage to study as well," she sighed slowly.

"Well, if you need help with the math you know where to find me," her Father offered quietly.

"Thank you Dad," she smiled softly. She hoped he could read between her words, that she meant it for their meeting earlier as well. 

* * *

It was eating her alive, as she sat at her desk trying to do her homework. The anger and frustration she felt was starting to bubble to the forefront of her mind. She honestly wasn't sure how she was even going to do on the history test, the notes just seemed to become blurry at one point or another. She was only thankful that it was just a quiz, and not a unit test. She decided after another hour that she was finished with studying. It wasn't reaching wherever it needed to go, and she still had another night to study. She packed it in, shoving each binder and text book into her backpack before she zipped it up. It was later than she had thought, and she rubbed her eyes – effectively smearing her eyeliner all over her cheek – in exhaustion. She pulled her tired body out of her desk chair and grabbed her pajamas before she headed into her bathroom to take a hot shower. She only hoped it calmed her down, and halted her racing thoughts. It was hard to think of anything else that moment.

She was tired, and she just wanted to go to bed. But despite the warm water and what it was doing for her along with the lavender body wash she was using, her mind was still going in a million different directions. There had to be some other way to get the information she wanted. She just wanted to know where she came from, biologically.

Harper finished her shower, and once she was dressed in her pajamas she debated about going through the motions of blow drying her hair. In a few final moments she decided against it, choosing to tie it back in a bun. She went through the motions with the rest of her bedtime routine, making sure to add her moisturizer. She sighed deeply when she was finished, and left her bathroom after she clicked the lights off. She walked back into her bedroom, and felt the pull of the information she so desperately wanted when she stepped back into her room. Harper plopped herself back down into her seat at the desk. She stared at the computer while she waited for it all to load. Se chewed her lip as she wondered hat she should even be looking for. Paul had told her there was no information to be had, so to speak and the thought alone deflated her will to find her birth parents.

She had started searching once her computer loaded up fully. She bounced from page to page, and felt her original disappointment storm back into her thoughts. Everything she was finding, all of the information about closed adoptions aligned with what Paul had told them. It was "impossible" to get a closed adoption unsealed in New York. She sighed as she continued to click through the pages. She found forums, she found posts on Tumblr and facebook about people older and younger than her doing the same thing – searching for their birth parents in a sea of unknowns. Her eyes started to get tired as she flipped through the suggestions Google was giving her. She read through as many posts and articles and she was starting to think there really was no solution. Harper paused for a moment when she heard her parents walking up the stairs, the floorboards creaking under their feet. She knew they would be in to say good night soon. She just wanted a few more minutes to herself.

She continued through the pages, until she came to one that suggested using a reunion registry. She took a deep breath and chewed her lip as she clicked the link, following it to the page that eventually caused her to sit back in her chair.

She didn't know how she didn't find it right off the top, it was almost that obvious. A reunion registry. She stared at the front page for longer than she would ever admit out loud. It was littered with pictures, that she assumed were happy reunions. A knock on her bedroom door knocked her out of her reverie and she shut the laptop quickly as she called for whoever it was that was on the other side of the door.

"You're still awake?" her Mother asked softly.

She spun around a little bit on her chair and put her bare feet down onto the floor. "Yeah. Just…researching…" she sighed softly.

Diane nodded softly and walked further into the room, before planting herself on the edge of the mattress. "Anything interesting?" she asked carefully.

She shrugged. "Mr. Paul was right," she sighed. "Not that I had any doubt. But everything I've found on here goes with what he said."

Diane nodded. "Are you okay, with what he said today?" she asked quietly. She could only shrug again. She didn't know if her Mom would like the emotions she was feeling tonight.

"I'm frustrated," she sighed. "I wanted this. You know," she turned her head away for a moment. "And I don't know what to do to fix that because everything I've read and what Mr. Paul told us, it doesn't seem like I can do much. Except I found this," she whispered. She backed up her chair a bit before she pulled the laptop forward on the desk so her Mom could see.  
 _  
"Adoption Reunion Registry,"_ Diane read. "What is it?"

"I don't know," she offered, a slight white lie. "I just got to this page when you knocked."

Diane nodded. "Well let's see," she offered as they started to scroll through the pages.

"It's a registry for people like me," Harper whispered softly. "People looking for their birth parents. Or birth parents looking for kids they put up for adoption," she explained a little as they scrolled. She started to get excited, the anxiety and disappointment bleeding away and hopefulness started to fill the spaces left behind. "Can I do it?" she asked softly. 

Diane stared at the page, and only turned her head when she felt Harper looking at her intently. "Harper," she sighed.

Harper turned away from her Mother and stared back at the screen. She felt the hopefulness start to wean.

"Mom," she whispered softly. So softly, that she wasn't even sure her Mom could have heard the word slip from her lips. "Please."

"I…." Diane started.

Harper moved closer to the computer once more and clicked on the registration page. She knew what was coming, she had come across it in some of the forums and information she had read. She had to be 18 to register herself. She wouldn't be 18 for a few weeks still.

"I want this, Mom," she started. "I want to find them. And find out where I came from. I do. But I can't do this without you, literally…" she stopped to point to the screen where it said she needed parental consent to sign up if she was under 18. "And genuinely. I can't do this without you or Dad's help," she almost started to beg. "Please Mom. Please do this for me, and with me…" she whispered. "You said you would help…"

Diane cleared her throat a little, and wiped her hands on her own pajama pants. "Okay, okay I'll help. We'll do it," she sighed. "I should get your Dad. What do they need?" she asked.

Harper chuckled wetly. "We just…sign up," she murmured excitedly.

"I'll go get my credit card," Diane nodded as she stood up. She went to leave the room to retrieve what she needed, and to grab Scott. Harper jumped out of her chair and ran to hug her Mother from behind.

"Thank you," she whispered into her cheek before she ran down the hallway to get her Dad and tell him what she had found.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Finn didn't need a reminder of what day it was. He took a long sip of his coffee as he stared at the calendar on the wall, one of those ones he had picked up at the pet food store when he was grabbing Huck's monstrous bag of kibble. The liquid was warm and bitter as it slid down his throat; just the way he liked it. He had marked the day in question with a sticker, a bright gold star sticker, so shiny that it glimmered in the overhead light of his kitchen. He marked every one of these days in the past 18 years with similar stickers, the only visual reminder he had of a day that had meant so much to him, so long ago.

His daughter's birthday.

A pain reverberated throughout his heart at the thought, just as he brought the cup of coffee to his lips and took another long swig.

He remembered the day in vivid colour, and yet he didn't want the memories to invade his mind too much. It made his heart hurt, much like it was right now, to think about the could-have-been. If he had just stood his ground, if he had spoken up when he had the chance – maybe things would have ended differently.

He stood up and put his coffee cup down in the sink, before he reached for the faucet and ran the water to rinse it out. He had to be at the shop in an hour, and he was already dreading being there for the day. His mood wasn't the greatest, and very few people in town knew about what had brought him to reside with them in the first place. To them it was another day; to him it was a day that had changed the course of his life not necessarily for the better. He would never live it down, it seemed. It would never get easier; it had been 18 years already and he felt strongly that if the emotions and heartache still bothered him now, they would forever.

* * *

Harper opened her eyes just as her alarm was about to go off. The sun streamed through the window in front of her bed, and just as it was getting ready to blast into her eyes she rolled over to avoid the rays. Her eyes felt heavy and sore, a distinct reminder of the conversations that she had had with her parents late last night.

The directory she had joined recently was turning out to be a dud, and a major source of her own sadness and disappointment. It had turned up no information as of yet, and the lump of realization that sunk to the bottom of her stomach each moment she thought about it. No one was looking for her - yet, an alternative truth that she tried to hang on to as the days trickled by. Her parents tried to keep her spirits up and she loved them for it. But it wasn't enough. She sat up and rubbed her puffy and sleep laden eyes just as a knock came to the door.

"Come in," she called once she cleared her throat of the morning haze. She knew it was one, or both, of her parents and it brought a smile to her face that they were keeping up with birthday tradition.

"Happy birthday!" they both smiled, a sing-song like quality to their words. She smiled softly as she sat up, tugging her pajama top a little so it was sitting correctly on her torso.

"Thank you," she blushed a little bit as her father carried the breakfast tray towards her. She lifted her arms so he could place the full tray in her lap. Breakfast on her birthday was always the same; scrambled eggs on toast, a tall glass of orange juice and bowl of fruit.

"I can't believe you're 18 already," Scott sighed as he pulled up the chair from her computer desk and sat down. Harper picked a piece of orange from the fruit bowl and chewed.

"You know, 18 years ago you weren't even born yet," Diane smiled as she sat on the mattress beside her. Harper shifted over a little as best as she could with the tray in her lap. Diane reached over and brushed her hair back from her face. "We hadn't even gotten the call yet, that we had been picked," she took a deep breath as Harper reached for the orange juice and took a long drink. Diane brushed her hair once more and tucked it behind her ear. Harper smiled gently. Every birthday started like this, breakfast in bed with her parents beside her. They often told her the story of how she came to be in their lives, almost always on her birthday, but she felt that the last few days had been filled with more stories than she knew what to do with.

"You were born later tonight," Diane smiled as Scott looked on, his own hands clasped in his lap. "Daddy and I got the call that we had been matched, and that you were on your way," she smiled. "We couldn't see you, couldn't see your birth parents at all, but we were told which hospital your birth parents had checked in to and we went immediately," she smiled.

"Your Mom had so much coffee that day," Scott winked. Harper laughed softly. "And you know how your Mom gets when she has too much coffee," he laughed. "But for real, your Mom and I waited all night."

"It wasn't all night," Diane laughed. "But it was a long wait. And even longer until we could hold you the next morning," she sighed. "But we got to see you after you were born, through the window and it was love at first sight. You were this tiny little thing. You were even born a few days past your due date the adoption agency told us and you were still this little thing," she smiled. "Who knew then that you would be so tall," she smiled. Harper sighed as she listened, and leaned her head onto her Mom's shoulder for a moment. She sighed, as for a brief moment she let her thoughts drift to the elephant that followed her around from room to room, finding her birth parents. Listening to the stories of her first day didn't help matters. If anything, it drove her thoughts back to them. Did they remember today was her birthday? Did they remember it fondly? Did they get angry? Did they just go on like it was another day, with their new families that she presumed they both had?

"You slept the entire first day you were home," Diane smiled, breaking her from her thoughts and bringing her back to reality for even just a minute. "And you cried the entire night," she laughed.

"No one got any sleep for the first six months," her Dad laughed. Scott stood up and brushed off his pants a little as he did so. Harper took another bite of her eggs. "On that note though, I have to run to work. I'll see you tonight for dinner?" he smiled as he leaned over to kiss her cheek. "Happy birthday sweetheart."

"Thanks Dad," she smiled.

* * *

Rachel padded her way through her condo, the quiet of the environment wrapped around her like a calming blanket on a cold winter night. The air was cool, she kept it that way. She didn't like it overly warm, she enjoyed the large comfortable sweaters and oversized long sleeves that lined her closet, a marked change from her costumes for Maureen. She walked towards the kitchen to make her morning coffee, Cosette dancing in between her legs much like she always does. The tabby cat danced between her legs, making her demands known for her morning food. "I know, but first I need coffee," she laughed as she tried to side step the cat. The cat didn't seem to take her words to heart and continued to move around her. Rachel couldn't help but allow a laugh to leave her lips as she watched her. She got the Keurig ready to brew, and took the few moments it took for the coffee to percolate in the machine to fill Cosette's bowl. She meowed in appreciation at her breakfast and immediately went to work making a dent in the large cup full of kibble. When it was ready, she fixed her coffee just the way she liked it; a splash of cream with half a teaspoon of sugar. She tasted the hot liquid to make sure it was to her taste before she journeyed out to the balcony that looked over Central Park. She sat on the oversized chair that she had bought specifically for this spot, and she often spent as many moments as she could in the comfortable seat.

Rachel looked out into the scenery around her, taking in the early morning sounds. It was cold, November in New York was known for it's cold snaps but it didn't bother her much. In fact, it as one of the things she loved about the city the most. She used this time in the mornings, to lose herself in her thoughts, to slow down and really step back to take a big, deep breath. Her life was fast paced, she had shows Tuesday through Saturday and two on Sundays usually. But today, she was sitting life out.

She took a quick sip of her coffee, enjoying the way the flavours danced on her tongue. She was savouring the alone time, it was only her and Cosette and she had even turned her phone off. She had plans to take in a show later, she had scored a ticket to the latest revival of West Side Story. But for now, she would bask in the little bit of time she had alone.

She didn't need her phone or a calendar to tell her what day it was. She knew it by heart, she felt it in her bones and the memories of why this day was so important to her. This was the only day out of the year, when Broadway wasn't dark that is, that she took off. For the past 18 years, she had taken today off.

Today, was her daughter's 18th birthday. The thought made her heart pound, and squeeze in a way that it only did when she remembered the past.

But she didn't want to dwell on the past. She stood up from the chair, tugging her robe closer to her body as she walked back into the condo. She brought her coffee mug into the kitchen and set about making herself some toast with avocado on top, before she settled in front of her computer to catch up on some emails.

* * *

Harper enjoyed her birthday immensely, despite that she had to spend most of her day at school. It didn't bother her too much; she had spent most birthday's in school – to her it was just a fact of life. When she was younger, her parents would make it special, sending cupcakes and bringing her a special lunch. But now that she was older, they let her do her own thing. She still had a special dinner and cake to look forward to when she got home.

Her friends had made a big deal about it, showering her with cupcakes and a few little trinkets. She appreciated every single well wish. She loved her birthday, always had and despite recent disappointments she loved turning 18 just as much as any other year.

Harper walked up the driveway to see her father's car parked in the driveway. She quickened her steps to make it up to the front porch and when she opened the door, she was not disappointed.

The entry way was decked out in in streamers and even though she hadn't counted them, she knew there were exactly 18 balloons littering the front hallway.

"Happy Birthday!" Her mother cried as she walked into the hallway from the kitchen. Harper allowed her lips to form into a beam of a smile as she dropped her backpack on the bench beside her, before embracing her Mom. Even though she had wished her Happy Birthday this morning, it still made her feel warm and fuzzy when she heard the words once more. She laughed a little as her Mom squeezed her close and placed a kiss on her cheek.

"Thanks Mom," she smiled as she pulled away. Diane didn't let her get away so easily. She pulled her in closer to place another kiss on her cheek. "Okay, okay," she laughed as she pulled away once more. "I still need to take my jacket off," she chuckled. She got out of her arms finally, and pulled the pea coat off her torso. "Where's Dad?"

As if on cue, Scott appeared from the kitchen. "There's my girl!" he smiled. "Happy Birthday, again, sweetheart," he chuckled as he hugged her close.

"Thanks Dad," Harper smiled. "You're home early." She pulled herself out of his embrace to kick her shoes off her feet. She turned around once more to look at her parents. She didn't miss the look that they passed between each other.

"It's your birthday," Scott smiled knowingly. He always made it home early on her birthday. She appreciated the sacrifices both of her parents made for her, and today was no different.

"I know that," she smiled happily. "When's dinner?"

Both Diane and Scott smiled. "We made a reservation for 5:00pm, sound good?" Diane asked.

Harper nodded. "I'll start getting ready!" she smiled.

"Don't you want your gift first?" Scott asked. Harper shifted her eyes between her parents. She could read on their faces that they were excited to give whatever it was to her, and she felt some more birthday related excitement bubble up.

"Sure!" She took a step forward to the kitchen, assuming that whatever it was, was sitting on the kitchen table like in previous years.

"Hey Harp? What makes you think its there?" Scott laughed. She turned on her heels to look back at them. They both had giddy looks on their faces, and she couldn't help but run back to them.

"It's in here," Scott smiled as he opened the garage door.

Harper's eyes widened as she watched the door swing open, the hinges squeaking as it did. Her heart hammered as it all seemed to come together. Her dads car, which normally sat in the garage bay on the left, was sitting out in the driveway when she came home.

"You didn't," she breathed. Her parents just smiled at her, and she took a few careful steps to the door that was beckoning her name. In the spot where her dad's sedan usually sat parked, was a smaller blue hatchback with a big red bow on the front end. She turned around to look at her parents. "You didn't," she gasped.

Both Diane and Scott were smiling back at her. "We were thinking, you're probably going to need a way to get around, to get back and forth to the city before school starts," Scott smiled as he leaned against the door.

"So you bought me a car?" she shouted in excitement. She dropped her hands to her knees as she stared at the blue automobile in front of her. "You bought me a car!" she stood up in exclamation, before running to her parents and almost knocking Diane off her feet. "I can't believe this!" she exclaimed into her Mom's cheek.

Both Diane and Scott laughed heartily as Harper felt herself tear up. They had bought her a car. She couldn't wrap her head around it; not even the image of the vehicle in front of her felt like real life. She felt like pinching herself. "I don't deserve this…" she whispered when the reality finally sunk in. Harper broke away from Diane and walked back over to the blue hatchback, and ran her fingers over the side mirror. "Mom," she whispered.  
Diane was over to her in an instant, and wrapped her arms around her. She placed a kiss on her cheek before bringing her face to rest against her own.

"Happy birthday sweet girl," she smiled blissfully before she turned and kissed her again. Harper turned her body and once more threw her arms around her Mother as elation take over.

"Well?" Scott smiled. "Want to take her for a spin?" he smiled as he dangled the car key in front of her. Harper let out another squeal before she crossed the distance between the two of them and snatched the key from him.

"Only if you guys come with me!" she squealed as she dashed for the front seat. Her jaw went slack as she explored the vehicle. It was spotless, perfectly clean and smelled distinctly of the cherry air freshener that hung from the rear view mirror. She was blown away, and still couldn't wrap her head around that her parents had done this for her. They were forever surprising her, and as her Dad slipped in the passenger seat and her Mom in the back, her heart weakened at the thought that she didn't quite deserve a gift this extravagant. She looked back at her Mom's smiling face in the mirror and forced herself to push down the thoughts of how much she knew she had disappointed them, especially in the last few weeks.

"Let's go!" Diane cheered as she tapped the back of the passenger seat.

Harper forced the grin to pique from her lips and pushed the key into the ignition and turning it to start the vehicle for a quick spin around the block. 

* * *

Finn marched into the house, his arms full with the case of beer he had picked up on the way home from the garage. He had strategically grabbed the 2-4, while also balancing the take out he had ordered from the pub down the street. Normally he ate there, especially tonight. Well, he ate there a lot of nights. But instead of following tradition to a tee, he decided to wallow in his own self pity at home and not annoy Brad, the usual barkeep. There was something about tonight that just twisted the usual, hot sting.

Huck came to greet him at the front door. Finn almost lost his footing as Huck maneuvered through his feet.

"Huck, for real?" he sighed as he righted himself before he moved for the kitchen. "Come on old man," he sighed. He placed the contents of his arms on the counter and shook out his hands when he was free of the package. He knew Huck was waiting for him to give him his dinner, and with the way Finn felt at the moment he had half a mind to just share a portion of the wings he had bought with the old pup. Before he had a chance to dump Huck's share of the wings into his metal bowl, he reached for the kibble he liked and filled the bowl. The wings called him to the counter, the hot spices and sauces called his name immediately. He grabbed a glass he had frosted last night to dump his beer into, grabbed a few beers and the container of wings and headed to the living room without Huck on his heels. He put everything down on the coffee table in front of his lazy-boy before he collapsed into it. He took a moment to take a deep breath that finished with a loud sigh before he reached for his first beer and poured it into the large glass. There was nothing worse than warm beer.

Finn scoffed at the thought as he took a large sip. He could think of a few things that were worse, starting with giving up your only child for adoption, he thought bitterly as he took another long swig.

* * *

Rachel picked a delicate pink colour for her toes. She couldn't get her finger nails painted. Maureen's nails were constantly a deep, blood red. But her toes she could do. She sat back in the large massage chair as the automatic massage settings took care of the knots that were twisted in her back. She closed her eyes as she felt the manicurist work on her feet. She pulled her foot back when she hit a ticklish spot, and opened her eyes to softly apologize to the woman.

"I'm sorry," she laughed as she put her foot back down on the rest. "You think I would be more used to this," she offered as she shrugged.

"We see it a lot actually," the woman smiled. She wet her hands to cover her foot before she went back to working on the bottom of her foot. Rachel smiled in acknowledgement before she went back to closing her eyes. She had two hours before she wanted to be at the show. **  
**

"Special occasion?" the manicurist asked as she moved to filing her nails.

"No," Rachel smiled softly. "Just took the day off to do a little bit of pampering," she offered. The manicurist nodded and set back to what she was doing.  
Rachel was glad when the manicurist went back to work. She appreciated the gesture, making small talk and all, and she usually enjoyed it when they didn't recognize her as the big Broadway star she was. But today she just wanted to be Rachel. She didn't want to be the Rachel who was Maureen, or the Rachel who was still doted on by her fathers even in their late age. She just wanted to be Rachel.  
And this Rachel? She thought as the manicurist began applying the first clear coat on her toes, this Rachel felt a longing in her heart, an ache in her chest that reminded her that there was another Rachel that would never get a chance to come out. She shook her head from the thoughts that were starting to overwhelm her and pushed them down – a practice she had become an expert in over the last 18 years.

* * *

Her parents let her drive her new car to dinner. The drive around the block had given her a taste of the small car, and the longer she sat in the driver seat, the further in love she fell with the car. If she had to say, other than choosing her to adopt, choosing her to love – the vehicle attached to the steering wheel she was clutching was by far the best gift she felt they had ever given her.

"They're going to give away our reservation if we don't go in soon," Scott laughed. Harper felt him staring at her, but chose instead to focus on the black material that covered the steering wheel and the way if felt between her fingers.

"I'll go in," Diane smiled. "You guys take as long as you need…" she offered.

"No, I'm coming," Harper smiled as she moved her hands and unclicked her seatbelt. "I can't wait to sink into that juicy steak Dad promised on the way over here," she joked. It was a given that she could order whatever she wanted from the menu, as was the ritual every birthday. Only now her requests were a little more than a chicken McNugget meal from McDonalds.

"You think you're getting steak after we bought you that car?" Scott joked as he slung his arm around her shoulder.

"But it's my birthday," she fake pouted as they walked into the restaurant behind Diane.

"I guess you only turn 18 once," he sighed with resignation but the smile still played at the corner of his lips. Harper laughed as she rolled her eyes.

They were shown to their table and given menus as the waitress took off. The three of them fell into the same comfortable silence that usually enveloped them at meal times and Harper was thankful for the quiet, even if it was just for a moment. But as much as she enjoyed the quiet, as with the last few weeks the quiet led her to thinking more and more about things that were going on in her life. She desperately tried to bury it, focus on the good things in her life. She had her parents – her wonderful parents who she loved so much. They were so supportive and she loved them deeply for it.

"And what would you like to drink?" she was pulled from her thoughts, the words that she didn't want to say out loud fluttered away in an invisible wind. She looked up to see both her parents and the waiter looking at her.

"Oh, you're talking to me," she chuckled. "I'll have an iced tea," she nodded with confirmation.

"Sounds good. I'll be back with your drinks," he smiled. "Happy Birthday," he winked.

Harper dropped her jaw in mock annoyance. "You didn't," she sighed.

"Don't we always?" Scott smiled.

Harper groaned. They did. They always did. She flipped open her menu, and as soon as her eyes landed on the steak portion she already knew what she wanted. She closed the laminated book with as much flourish as she could muster.

"Decided?" Scott asked as he looked up at her from his own menu.

"I told you," she smiled. "I'm getting the steak. Medium well. With mashed potatoes," she moaned at the thought.

"Somehow I knew that's what you would be choosing," Diane smiled when she closed her own menu.

Harper nodded as the waiter returned with their drinks; an iced tea for her, a beer and glass of wine for her parents.

Once they had placed their orders, the waiter left them and the silence that had covered them before returned. Until her father cleared his throat.

"So were you surprised by the car?" he asked as he took a sip of his beer. Harper had her own glass in her hand, and took a sip and set it down before answering.

She nodded. "You guys completely surprised me. What made you think of getting me a car?" she asked softly.

She watched as a look passed between both her parents before her Dad spoke again. "We just thought it would make your life a little easier. Plus, it was being sold by someone in my office so we know it's history. And well, we thought you deserved it," he finished as Diane nodded along with him.  
Harper couldn't help the blush that crept up her cheeks when he said she deserved it. Her parents loved her so much, and for some reason she didn't feel like she deserved it as much as they thought she did.

The past few weeks had been difficult in their home, to say the least. At least that was her perception. If they were angry with her they hid it well and getting her a car for her birthday surely didn't support her theory that she had made a mess of their family bond. She knew they supported her immensely. The way they supported her wholeheartedly had carried her through all of her life, through every trial and tribulation. And even though they had verbalized their support to her, especially when it came to the directory she had had to get them to sign up for, she still felt that she had rocked the foundation of their family, so to speak.

"Am I allowed to ask about the directory?" Scott asked calmly as he took a piece of bread the waiter had left behind.

Harper blew out a breath that was powerful enough to blow her bangs from her face.

"I'm assuming since we haven't heard anything, that you haven't had any hits come back?" he asked slowly.

Harper busied herself for a moment, grabbing her own piece of bread and slicing it to apply some butter.

"Harper?" Diane asked softly.

Harper took a bite of the bread, chewed and swallowed before she looked at both her parents.

"I haven't heard anything," she confirmed quietly. She tore another piece off her bread and stuck it in her mouth as her parents exchanged a look she couldn't quite read.

"So what does that mean," Scott prodded. This time she caught the look between her parents, and could see clearly on her Mother's features that she was trying to scold her father.

Harper decided to ignore the sentiment and grabbed for her iced tea. "It means that they haven't found me yet, and I haven't found them," she confirmed.

"Honey, I don't want to hurt your feelings, especially because it's your birthday – but do you think maybe this is a sign that you should chose another topic for your essay?" he asked carefully. "It's already November and the essay…"

Harper cut him off. "I'm not changing my essay topic. I have until February 1st. That's a long time away," she stumbled over her words and paused to take a sip of her drink. "And besides, as you said…it's my birthday. I'm 18 now," she shrugged.

She saw her Mom purse her lips, and the movement in her features spurred her on. "I can take on the directory myself. It's something I can do on my own," she sighed as she looked between her parents. "I just….I need this, you know? I need to know just as much now as I did before. I need to find them. And I thought you guys were behind me with this?" her voice cracked without her realizing it. **  
**

Both of her parents reached for her hand at the same time. "We are still with you. We would never not be behind you," Scott affirmed. "You're our little girl Harper, and it's hard for both your Mom and I to see you disappointed," he finished.

Harper shrugged, and allowed them both to take her hand. "I'm sorry," she whispered plainly. It came out so soft that she wondered if she had actually said the words at all.

Neither Scott or Diane said anything for a few moments. "You don't have to apologize," Diane uttered. "But we just don't want you to end up hurt or disappointed."

Harper nodded. She had heard it all over the last few weeks, the words of support mixed with the words of caution, sprinkled in between stories they had told  
her about her childhood. While it all made her feel warm and fuzzy on the inside, it did little to answer the questions that remained without answers for her.

The ones only her birth parents could tell her.

Their food arrived before the conversation could continue further, and Harper took the silence as they dove into their dishes as a chance to mull over what she had said to her parents, and their responses. She chewed thoughtfully on a piece of steak, and when she swallowed she put her fork down to take a drink of her iced tea. Both of her parents were fully involved in their own meals; her father in his chicken cordon bleu and her mother deep in her fettucine alfredo.

"You don't have to worry about me disappointed," she murmured. They both looked up from their meals and she connected eyes with each of them for a minute. "Because you guys have given me the best life I could have ever imagined. I don't know any different than this life, and I don't want to have any more what if's or why nots," she whispered.

Both her parents nodded. "I can understand that," Scott assured. "Thank you, for saying that. It means a lot," he smiled.

"And I'm not just saying it because you bought me a pretty kick ass car," she winked.

Both of her parents laughed, and in that moment the tension that had formed broke, just in time for the Happy Birthday chant from the staff of the restaurant.


	6. Chapter 6

No fancy authors note except I've taken some artistic liberties with some of what Finn says in his scene as well as others :) Hope you enjoy. I do have to give you a bit of a heads up that the next chapter might be further from now. Life is about to get really busy at work, unfortunately. But I won't be gone for long!

* * *

 **Chapter Six**

Harper wasn't used to it, but she was pretty much having the worst day possible. She slammed her locker closed as she tried to grab all of her homework for the weekend with one hand. The stack of work she had to do was larger than she anticipated, and she could already feel her eyes glazing over at all the time she was going to have to spend at her desk this weekend – doing things she didn't really care to do.

"Wanna go to the mall this weekend? I need to get some new jeans, as soon as possible," the voice of her best friend since toddlerhood, Cora, carried over the metal of the door to her locker and reached her ears. Harper took a deep breath as she steadied her hold on the textbooks and notebooks that were in her grasp before she turned to look at the smaller red head.

Harper dropped the load from her arms to the backpack before she responded.

"Hello? I'm talking!" Cora breathed, exasperated.

"And I heard you," she snapped. Harper immediately regretted the tone of her voice. "Sorry."

If she was taken aback, the look on Cora's face didn't give Harper any indication. Nevertheless, she apologized anyway. "Sorry."

Cora used her manicured hand to fluff her off in silence. "What's the matter with you?"

Harper blew out a breath. "I got a C on the Spanish quiz from yesterday," she admitted as she slammed the locker closed and moved to pick up her bag, but not before fishing out her car keys.

It was Cora's turn for a reaction, and an easy, loud laugh slipped from her lips. "Are you kidding? That's what has your panties in a bunch?"

Harper rolled her eyes in response and shouldered her bag in one smooth move. "It was just a quiz Harp. I get C's on his quizzes all the time," Cora shrugged.

"It may have been just a quiz, but it'll effect my grade in some way," she sighed. "Now I have to study harder for the unit test that's coming up next week."

Cora shrugged off her complaints. "So I'm assuming that's your way of saying you're a no for the mall," she petered off.

Harper nodded. "Rain check? I just really have a lot of work," she sighed as they began the walk out of the large high school, towards the parking lot.

"I'm going to hold you to that," Cora grinned, and it only faltered for a moment before her lips perked back up. "Hey! Can we stop for milkshakes before you drop me off?" she batted her eyes. "You can consider it my consolation prize," she winked.

Harper chuckled. "I think we can do that. I could really go for a mint chip milkshake right now."

"Now you're speaking my language," Cora laughed as they arrived at Harper's car. "Have I mentioned before how much I love your parents?" she laughed more heartily as she slipped into the front seat of Harper's car. "No more bus for us!"

Harper again laughed as she mimicked her movements after throwing her heavy backpack into the back of her car.

* * *

Harper pressed the button on her key fob and waited for the reassuring beep of the lock system before she moved to walk into the house. She had pulled into an empty garage and didn't see her father's out on the street, and she felt a certain elation that she almost always felt when she had the house to herself. She balanced her bag and her half-finished milkshake in one hand as she tried to make her way into the house. The quiet resonated through her, even Samson only looked up from his spot to acknowledge her rather than bounding over. She needed the quiet; while her nerves had calmed some through the drive home with Cora which resulted in milkshakes and offkey singing, there was still an unease that seemed to spread through like wildfire every moment she had quiet.

The bad grade had felt just like the nail in the coffin. It had been one thing after another this week, and the mounting pressures at school and with volleyball were beginning to get to her. She dropped her bag down, not really caring at the moment where it landed. She placed the milkshake a little more daintily, afraid of the liquid gold inside spilling on any of the furniture in the vicinity. When she finished shrugging off her outerwear, she picked up the drink to head in to see her favourite person.

Samson stood up as she approached and Harper smiled at the old pup's tail wag. "Hey pal," she smiled as she walked to the couch and plopped down, as Samson approached her. Samson sneezed before he approached, and spent a long moment sniffing the cup of her milkshake before he turned to lick her hand.

"Did you have a good day?" she whispered as she ran her fingers through the fur on his head. Samson whined a little bit. "You too? Must be something in the air," she whispered as she patted his head.

Samson sneezed again before he sniffed her hand once more. He gestured with his head for her to scratch the top of his head. Harper complied, and scratched at his head mindlessly for a few long minutes. Eventually both of them bored of the activity and Samson moved away, walking slowly to his bed before he circle around to find the perfect position. "I wish it was that easy," she murmured to Samson as she picked up the remote and turned on the television. Samson seemed to understand what she was talking about and gently slapped his tail against the side of his bed for a moment before he closed his eyes.

* * *

Finn stood at the desk going through paperwork. He hated paperwork. It was the bane of his existence, but a necessary evil that had to be done. He was close to closing, he just had to wait for the owner of the small sedan to come in and get the vehicle. He had spent the majority of the day on the small, newer vehicle trying to figure out what the hell was making the ominous clicking sound. It had turned out it was just the fan belt, but the way the new car was built it wasn't completely obvious. He hated that he hadn't known that, and for a moment he pondered if he should take a class of some sort to keep up with the newer technology. No sooner had the thought entered his mind, it left – just as the bell above the door alerted him that the owner of said vehicle arrived. Only when he looked up it wasn't the kind older gentleman who had dropped it off this morning. In his place stood a leggy blonde, and he would be stupid if he didn't think at first glance that she was in fact – beautiful.

"You're still here! Oh thank goodness!" the woman's breathless voice broke him from his day dream quickly.

"We're open until 6pm today," he pointed to the clock that showed it as just before the hour.

The woman in front of him nodded. "That's what my Pops said," she nodded again. "I just didn't know if you would have waited since it was so close." He noted that her voice came out in a rush and he could only nod himself in response to her words. "I'm Breeze," she stuck out her hand. "My Pops says you're the best mechanic in town," she charmed.

Finn felt himself blush at her words, but immediately set his features back to appear more professional. "I'm the only mechanic in town that's open on Sunday's," he smiled.

"He still thinks you're the best, don't be so modest," she winked. "Did you happen to figure out what that awful clicking noise is? It's been driving me crazy! I got in to town yesterday and my Pops said I had to bring it here," she chuckled. He noted that she got a little nervous and he found himself smiling a little bit at her mannerisms.

"I figured it out, it took pretty much all day – but I did it," he smiled. He stood up straighter and grabbed the hand towel he had abandoned earlier to subconsciously wipe his fingers. He had scrubbed them extensively when he had first made his way into the office. "It was your fan belt. It had a huge kink in it, that was getting all twisted. Parts of it had even frayed to the point it was about to snap."

He could tell in an instant that Breeze had no idea what he was talking about. He chuckled a little bit. "It's all fixed up now," he laughed softly. "I changed the belt, topped up your fluids and filled your windshield washer fluid. It was super low," he smiled.

"I can never figure out how to get the hood open to get that filled up," she smiled. Finn nodded and moved behind the counter to grab her keys and paperwork. He slid the paper work over towards her first.

"So your grandfather left his credit card number, I just need you to sign for the charges," he stated.

"That's my Pops," she smiled. She reached for the pen and scribbled her name on the line. Finn picked up the keys when she was finished and handed her the keys. "You're all set," he smiled. When she reached for them their fingers brushed and Finn chuckled a little internally when he saw the blush creep to her cheeks.

"Thank you so much," she smiled.

"You're very welcome," he smiled.

When she finally left, Finn raised his hands and rubbed his face hard. He pushed the palms of his hands hard into his eyes until it was too much to bear. He pulled away and blew a heavy breath from his lips as he tried to bring himself back in, shaking off the interaction with the younger woman before he went to go lock the door and turn off the open sign.

* * *

Harper had thrown in the towel on studying for her Spanish test long before she felt like she should have. But when the words all started to sound the same and the page started to become blurry for her, she decided it was time to put it to rest. She had shut herself in her room, because she was destined to get better than a C on the unit test. She needed a higher grade by the end of the term, and she couldn't let Spanish bring down her average. She rubbed her face to the point of it hurting her eyes and making the mascara she had worn for volleyball pictures come off on her skin. She yawned loudly and stood up to stretch. Her bed was comfortable most of the time, but as she had forced herself onto the plush surface instead of sitting in her desk chair, she felt at that moment that the prior had not been that great of a choice. She shook out the sleepy feeling in her bones and muscles, cracking her neck until she heard the satisfying noise that came from the movement. Every time she performed the movement she chuckled. Her parents hated the noise and the movement; but it just felt so good.

She walked into her bathroom and clicked on the stereo she kept in there. She pulled her long curly brown hair out of the elastic she had tied it back in, and let it flow. She felt that a long shower was in order, and started to hum along to the music that played from the stereo. She let the music run through her veins as the water heated up, and when it was ready she got under the hot spray. It did wonders for her stiff muscles and as she stayed under the spray she felt the tensions brought forward from studying slowly slinking away from her. She closed her eyes as she let the music take over, the words to the newest Taylor Swift song easily slipping from her lips. She danced carefully in the shower, trying not to fall on the slippery surface. The little adhesive flowers on the bottom of the tub she knew were meant to stop her from slipping – but her clumsy limbs had taught her otherwise.

The shower did wonders for her mood, and almost took the sting out of how annoying it would be to dry her unruly curly hair. She decided against applying heat, and worked some mousse through the long locks so it wouldn't be so annoying later. She moved through her routine and when she was finished, she felt like the weight of her worries had fallen off her shoulders. Her parents always told her to try her best, but the burden of the her upcoming tests and the Yale application still weighed heavily on her mind virtually all the time.

Harper found Samson waiting for her, and her eyes immediately darted to the door she had closed to study earlier in the evening. "Hey pup," she smiled. Samson slunk over to her and immediately sought out her hand to scratch his head. "How did you get in here huh?" she asked softly. He gave her a happy little bark, and she smiled as she scratched at his fur for a few more minutes. She patted his nose before she chose to sink down into the chair at her computer desk. Samson followed her and rested his head on her knee as she booted up the computer. Harper absent-mindedly kept scratching at Samson's head, moving from the top of his skull to his ears and back again. She mindlessly flipped through her social media, not noticing anything of interest as she did so. There was nothing that really drew her in, just a few pictures from her cousins in the city that she liked and even less that she left a comment on. She eventually landed on the registry, and in an instant she found her pulse start to quicken as she logged in.

On her birthday, her parents had handed the registry over to her. They had been able to take themselves off with the help of an over the phone representative, and while Harper was still hopeful and ecstatic about the registry, both with and without her parents assistance it had come up empty. The discouragement she felt every time she logged in seemed to mount on her mood, made all the worse by the bad grade. It was also why she always left it for last, and she wondered if she should follow her parents advice and just choose another topic. She stopped herself, just like she always did. She wanted this. She wanted to know her birth parents.

She waited as the website loaded, and quickly entered her login information and waited with baited breath for it to log in, much like she did every night.

But tonight was different.

She felt her heart stop when she saw the small number 1 alerting her and dragging her eyes to the small mailbox in the corner. Harper chewed her lip as she stared at the alert. She felt conflicted in that moment. She desperately wanted to open the message, but she felt like her heart was beating a million miles a minute. Her eyes drifted to the door and she wondered for a brief moment if she should go get one of her parents. But she patted Samson's head, got a hold of her emotions and scrolled over to the alert that was almost mocking her at the top of the page. Her heart felt like it was going to beat out of her chest as she clicked on the message box, and she nearly screamed when she saw the title of the message.

 _Are you my granddaughter?_

Even though moments ago her heart had felt like it was going to explode, she now felt like time had stood still. She chewed her lip as she stared at the screen, and tried to convince herself to open the message. She took a deep breath and clicked on the subject line.

 _Hello,  
My name is Carole Hummel and I believe you may be my granddaughter. My son and his girlfriend at the time had a baby girl on November 10_ _th_ _, 18 years ago in New York City. Although I never got to meet you, looking at your photo now I feel very strongly that you are who I have been longing to meet all these year. I know this is weird, and perhaps you wish that this message was coming from your father or even your mother, but do know that even after all these years you are very much loved and thought of – even if it is just by your Pops and I. That's what my husband has insisted he be called … you should hear your cousins say that without front teeth.  
Listen to me, blabbering on and you may not even be my son, Finn's daughter. But I hope this message is reaching the right person, and I hope you'll consider writing me back.  
Yours sincerely,  
Carole Hummel._

Harper slumped against the back of her chair. Samson, sensing that she needed him, moved his head a little further in and nudged her elbow in a move that was meant to reassure her that he was there.

"My grandmother," she whispered softly. She absent-mindedly scratched at his head once more, as she struggled to keep her emotions in check. "What do I do Sams?" she whispered. "Do I write her back?" she whispered as she scratched at his ears thoughtfully.


	7. Chapter 7

Hi all! I'm ready to share the next chapter of What About Now with you all! Hope you enjoy it! As always, I own the plot and any original characters. I do not own Finn or Rachel or anyone who appeared on Glee. They're property of Ryan Murphy and Co. I have taken creative liberties to fit the story line.

* * *

 **Chapter 7**

The moment she hit send, Harper was overcome with a feeling that she could not quite describe. She had sat on the message she had received from Carole for a few days, and as difficult as it was she tried to keep it away from her parents. As much as she trusted in the registry; it boasted on every page that they were screening messages for eligibility, there was a part of her that was hesitant to believe in the idea that the person behind the message, the _Carole_ behind the message possibly had links to her birth father.

Harper had written and rewritten the email over a dozen times. The words were there on the tip of her tongue, but the moment she tried to articulate her thoughts through her keyboard she suddenly was overcome with writer's block. She worried now though, that the version she had sent may have been too timid – a trait that she was anything but. Except now there was no going back. She couldn't undo the message, go back and add more thoughts. She would just have to see what came from the questions she had asked and comments she had made.

She closed the laptop after she finished and decided she needed to get out of the house. One look out the window told her that even though they had been calling for it, the weatherman had been wrong about the snow he had said they would get. She stretched her arms above her head and decided to take advantage of the still clear weather outside and take Samson for a walk around the block. Harper grabbed her favourite oversized hoodie and slipped it over her head before she made a break for the stairs. Getting out would be good for her. And Samson never really turned down a good walk.

"Samson!" she called as she thumped down the stairs. "Samson buddy, want to go for a walk?" she called as she reached the bottom of the stairs. The old pup got up from wherever he had rested himself and met up with her just as she started towards the foyer. She smiled wide when she saw him do his happy dance. "Let's go!" she smiled as she headed towards the front door to grab her pea coat, boots and his leash.

"Harper?" Diane's voice penetrated the air. Her father had long ago locked himself in his office when she had barricaded herself upstairs for 'homework'.

"Yeah?" she called as she clipped Samson's leash to his collar.

Diane appeared out of the laundry room. "You're going for a walk now? Honey, it's late," she started to protest.

Harper fought hard against the urge to roll her eyes. "Mom, it's just passed 7. It's not late," she laughed. "I just need to get out. I've been sitting too long working on some math homework. I need to stretch the limbs."

"Want some company then? I could go for a quick walk," Diane offered. "I can be ready to go in a minute."

"Mom," Harper sighed hesitantly. "Really, I'm fine. Samson is raring to go and I kind of wanted to be alone if that's alright. I have my phone, if it makes you feel more comfortable. And you know Samson is the best guard dog a girl could ask for," she tried to joke. She hoped her mother didn't take offense at her turning down her offer for company.

Diane's features immediately showed that she was taken aback momentarily at the rejection. "Oh. Well, okay then. That's fine," Diane half smiled. Harper nodded at her Mother's words and grabbed her black woolen mittens that were sitting on the small bench beside the door. "I'll make cocoa for when you come back."

"That would be fantastic," she smiled with another nod. She slipped her ear buds into her ears before she slipped the mittens on and grabbed Samson's leash. "We'll be back. Come on boy!"

When she stepped out into the cold air, Harper took a deep breath into her lungs. She enjoyed the cold weather and the way she could see her breath when she blew it out. She walked a lot when she was restless, she could never figure out why exactly it, but it always seemed to help her out. As her and Samson walked down the sidewalk towards the end of their subdivision, Harper allowed the music playing in her ears to transport her to another place. She used music a lot to calm her nerves, take her mind and thoughts away from things at hand. She kept her pace, breathing in the icy air that seemed to help her breathe easier. Samson kept up with her on her left, and she only had to tug on his bright green leash when she needed him to stop to cross the street.

As they walked and the music played through her earbuds, Harper could feel herself starting to relax. She needed to relax. She had a big week at school this week with presentations and another in school volleyball tournament this weekend that added extra practices to her plate. That coupled with the looming thought that her _grandmother_ had contacted her weighed heavily on her shoulders. Keeping it from her parents just made matters worse, for her. But the walk allowed her to let go of what was making her tense, the thoughts that were keeping her hostage, even if it was just for a moment.

Harper walked longer than she had originally set out to, staying out late enough for the previously forecasted flakes to start falling from the sky and the wind to pick up a little as she followed the familiar path back to her house. She had been gone long enough to have her mind settle and her lungs to burn from the cold nipping air. Samson's fur was covered with a thin, melting layer of snow by the time they arrived at the house and she immediately went into the garage to wipe him off before they went in.

Samson danced around as she wiped his fur with the towel her Mom insisted they kept out there.

"You liked that eh old pup?" she laughed as she rubbed his head with the towel. He gave her a low grumble and small bark as she chuckled again. "I'll take that as a yes," she laughed. "Let's go inside. Get a treat?" He did a dance again, slapping his paws against the concrete floor as she went to go in the house. Once the door was open, Samson dashed around her feet and bolted for the kitchen with his leash still attached. Harper smiled as her Mom's laughing exclamation met her ears as she kicked off her boots.

"I said the word treat," she smiled as she walked into the kitchen herself, the smell of hot cocoa too much to ignore. When she entered her Mother was down on the floor holding out a bone to the suddenly hyper dog.

"That's okay," Diane smiled as she let him take it. She unclipped the leash as he chewed and stood up. "You were gone quite a bit longer than I thought you would be," she commented as she brushed off some crumbs from her yoga pants.

Harper tried hard to keep her sigh from escaping too loudly. She knew it was out of love and concern for her wellbeing but she was 18. "I'm sorry," she apologized. "We just got going and I didn't realize how much time had gone by."

It was Diane's turn to sigh, and Harper didn't miss how she didn't keep it back at all. But the reprimand she had been anticipating didn't come. "Want marshmallows with your cocoa?" she offered softly. Harper wondered if it was a peace offering of sorts.

"Lots please," she offered her a half smile to reciprocate what she assumed was the hidden meaning behind the sigh.

Diane nodded and went to get it set up. Harper watched her from her perch at the island, and when Diane turned around and caught her eye she tried to deflect her attention to her phone and Facebook. When the cocoa was ready there was no avoiding her Mother anymore.

She pushed her phone away when she accepted the chocolate drink. "Smells good," she smiled softly.

Diane offered her a small smile. "I tried a new brand so let me know if it's okay," she nodded a little. She grabbed a cloth and wiped around the island. "Did you get your assignment done?" she asked.

Harper swallowed the sip she had in her mouth before she answered her. "Yeah. My part is done. All I can do now is hope that the other parts are as well," she nodded as she spoke. "This is good Mom. Really good."

Diane smiled. "Good. I'll keep buying it then," she nodded.

Harper continued to drink her hot cocoa as her and Diane sat in a stilted silence. She wanted to share so badly with her Mother about the message she had received, but she felt it in her heart that right now wasn't the right moment. Her parents, while being supportive about the whole search for birth parents, hadn't really come around to the idea of anyone being able to message her, without them seeing it first. They had even been leery back when she had signed up for Facebook. They were protective like that. And most days she appreciated it.

* * *

 _Thursday, November 16th – 9:15pm_

 _Dear Carole,_

 _My name is Harper Frances Richards and I have newly turned 18 years old. But you probably could have gotten all that information from the profile my parents and I carefully constructed. I came on to this site to gather information about my birth parents – information that I have longed to have, yet have been denied – like you said – because of the roadblocks put in place because of the stupid New York laws._  
 _Please forgive me, if I don't quite believe right now that you are my grandmother. I mean, I hope you are...but are you really? What can you tell me? Can you help me?_

 _Sincerely,_  
 _Harper Richards_.

 ** _Saturday, November 18th – 1:06pm_**

 ** _Dear Harper,_**  
 ** _I understand your reluctance. It must come as a shock, and a little bit of disappointment that I am not your birth father or your birth mother. But please understand that I am someone who deeply cares and loves you and has every day I have known about your existence. I don't have many answers for you, but I can try my best to give you what I do know, if that is what you want. I would love to help you, in whatever fashion that means._**

 ** _Yours truly,_**  
 ** _Carole Hummel_**

 _Saturday, November 18th – 1:10pm.  
_  
 _Carole,_  
 _So what do you know then? How do I know I can trust you? What can you tell me? Please stop being vague. What do you know? You could really help me out if you just told me their names and what you know._

 _Harper_

 ** _Saturday, November 18th – 1:25pm._  
 _  
Harper,_  
 _I'm sorry if my last email seemed to be vague, as you said. This is hard for me, as I imagine it is for you. I've wanted you to be in my life for the last 18 years, for my son to raise you and for you to be in our family. But that was beyond my choice. And how can you trust me? Trust that the registry has allowed these messages to be sent to you. I know you are my Granddaughter, my Finns daughter. You were born November 10th, at 8:58pm at night, at Mount Sinai Beth Israel Hospital in the heart of New York City. You can confirm that with your parents. They would have that information too. You were born to my son and his girlfriend, and before I had a chance to fly down – they had placed you in the arms of your parents and you were gone from my life. Until now._**

 _ **Grandma Carole**_

The messages went back and forth for a few days. Each time she checked the registry she felt the anxiety in her chest rise. The woman, Carole, was not wrong about the information she had offered her. She didn't even have to go to her parents to confirm the information – she had enough documents at her disposal; her baby book, some things that she had stored away when they had redecorated her room – framed works that were apart of her childhood room growing up. She knew where she was born, obviously when and where. She knew that her parents had been there when her birth mother had given birth. There was nothing new to her in the information. Except for her birth father's first name.

Finn. A short four letters that seemed to just reverberate in her mind as she sat back on the couch. She had brought her laptop downstairs to work but at the moment she wished she was locked in the safety of her room. There was safety in the walls of her bedroom, it was where this secret of the communication with _Carole_ was held under lock and key.

She kept rereading the emails that she had used his name in. Finn. She mouthed the name a few times quietly, no sound leaving her lips. Her mother was gone to some book club meeting at the library and her father had yet to appear from his office where he had barricaded himself after arriving home from work.

Harper wanted more. It was obvious to her that Carole knew more, she had to have more information that she let on. She chewed her lip as she stared at the email for a few more beats before she opened up the reply pop-up.

 _Saturday, November 18_ _th – 1:46pm._

 _Carole,_  
 _There are so many questions that I have, mostly about my birth parents. How old were they when I was born? Were they young, like I am now? Or are they older, like my parents? Are they still together? Did they get married? Are they still married? Did they have more children? Do I have brothers and sisters? I'm an only child. My parents waited a long time for me, and even though they have been the best parents in the entire world, I know they would have loved to have a house full of kids. I do have a lot of cousins though, both my parents come from big families so while I've often wished-for siblings, most days I know that I have it pretty good with the family I've called mine for the past 18 years._

 _Hopefully,_  
 _Harper_.

"Oh, you're out here."

Harper jumped and slammed down the lid to her laptop when she heard her Dad's voice. "Geez Dad," she cried as she looked behind her to see her Dad standing behind her. "Warn a girl," she sighed.

"Sorry. I haven't been here for very long. Long enough to see your furiously typing on your keyboard. Getting a lot of work done?" he inquired.

"Oh. Um, no. Just chatting with Cora," she fibbed. She watched her Dad nod slowly, as if he was taking in the information she had just offered him.

"Is she doing alright?" Scott asked as he crossed his arms over his chest. "I was thinking of heading out to a movie. Want to indulge your dear old Dad?" he laughed. "You can invite Cora too if you want," he added.

Harper considered the options for a minute. Stay home and stare at the screen keeping up the rouse of that she was talking to Cora or go to the movies with her Dad.

"What are we seeing?" she smiled as she placed the laptop on the coffee table in front of her and stood up. Harper pulled her sweater down so it was sitting right.

Scott threw his head back and laughed. "How about I meet you half way and let you pick? Just no gushy movies where the whole theatre is going to cry," he laughed.

"Deal, there's a new Ed and Lorraine Warren movie out anyway," she chuckled as she grabbed her coat.

* * *

 _ **Saturday, November 18th, 2:10pm.**  
 **  
Harper,**  
 **I wish I had all the answers to those questions. I can answer a few of them though, to the best of my ability. You see Harper, after you were born and subsequently given over to your adoptive parents, things were really rough for my son and his girlfriend. They always had an up and down relationship, even in high school. You see, they were high school sweethearts. They started dating somewhere in sophomore year. I don't know the details or the ins and outs but all I know is your father and mother were the epitome of high school sweethearts. She followed him, and he followed her. Until they broke up.**  
 **  
In fact, I didn't even know they were back together until your birth mother came back to tell him and her parents that you were on your way. They were 20 when they learned they were expecting you. My Finny was 21 by the time you were born, your birth mother wouldn't have been 21 for about another month. They were young, there is no doubt about that. But to see them together, it was like you were looking at two people who were wise beyond their years. But your mother had dreams, and your father – well he figured out what his dreams were through her. My dream, for them, was happiness. I can't speak for them, because I haven't seen either of them in over 17 years.**  
 **To my knowledge, they're not together. I don't know what your birth mother is doing – last I heard she was living and going to school in New York City. Her parents used to live here, until about ten years ago when they moved away to a place unknown. Your father though, I couldn't even tell you where he lives, what he does to support himself or if he is with anyone at this time. As I said, I have not seen or heard from him in over 17 years. As I sit here writing this, tears are rising in my eyes. I wish I had more information for you. I wish I could tell you that I have a current phone number. I wish I could give you more concrete, current information. But I just don't have it.**_

 _ **Sincerely,**_  
 ** _Grandma Carole_ **

* * *

Harper laughed as she walked out of the theatre with her Dad. "You jumped so high," she chuckled.

"I did not, I don't know who you think you were looking at," he laughed as he walked beside her.

Harper laughed heartily as they stepped out into the cold evening. "Alright, alright, whatever you say," she chuckled. "At least you didn't dump your popcorn on the people in front of us like last time…."

Scott groaned. "I thought you were going to let that go?" he sighed as he clicked the unlock button on his key fob when they reached the car.

"You make it so easy to tease you about these things," she laughed. She threw herself into the car and went for the seatbelt before he even got inside.

"I just let you because you're so cute," Scott winked as he turned the car on, before he started the drive home.

"Dad, that may have worked when I was six, but I'm 18 now," she chuckled. "Cute is not exactly what a soon to be high school graduate wants to hear."

She turned her face to the road then, as the silence deafened in her ears. The car fell silent as Scott drove them home. "I forget how old you are sometimes," Scott uttered in the quiet of the car. "You got so big so fast Harp," he smiled.

"Are you going to cry now?" she chuckled, a slight tinge of uncomfortableness coming to her voice. Even she could hear it.

Scott scoffed. "Forgive me for getting sentimental as my only child throttles towards college. Which leads me to, am I allowed to ask about the essay? Or the registry for that matter?" he asked as he turned the corner that led to their subdivision.

"Dad," she groaned. "The essay? I have nothing. Same goes for the registry. Not a hit," she sighed to cover up the lie that she felt tumbling out with her words. They felt heavier with each passing second.

"Do you think you should…."

Harper put up her hand. "Okay. Okay, sorry I asked," Scott responded softly. Harper softened at his words. "It's just been a bit since we've spent time like this together. I feel like we haven't gotten a chance to talk…"

"You've been working a lot Dad," Harper sighed and immediately wanted to stuff the words back in her mouth. She didn't miss the flash of emotions across his face. She instantly felt bad. She knew he worked hard to provide for them, and she hoped her dreams of going to Yale didn't make things worse.

Talking to Carole had made her think of everything she truly had in life, a wonderful set of parents, a huge extended family and she had never wanted for anything in her life. She hadn't had to work a lot, only in the summertime so she could focus on her school work. She was lucky that way, in a way that some of her friends – Cora included, weren't. She knew she had it good. But at the same time, she didn't get to benefit from what her friends had. The knowledge of where she had come from. She set her features back and turned to look at her Dad.

"There's just been a lot going on at the office," Scott assured. She nodded as he said the words. "Hey, I have an idea…" he smiled as he stopped the vehicle, swung it into reverse and turned around.

"Where are we going?" she grinned. She had an inkling, but Harper wanted him to tell her. Or show her.

"You'll see," Scott winked as he propelled the car in the other direction.

* * *

 _Sunday, November 19th, 11:29am._

 _Grandma Carole,_  
 _I appreciate all the information you were able to give me. I know I gave you a lot of questions to answer, and I'm grateful for what you were able to tell me. It hurts a little, to read about how you haven't had contact with my birth father in so many years. Selfishly I wish you and him were…or are, like me and my Dad. My dad and I are close, and aside from my Mom and my school friend Cora, he's my best friend. We've always been close. I guess that's how it is for only children. Though I wouldn't know. All of my friends and cousins have siblings. I'm a lone wolf I guess._

 _Can I ask one more question? What does Finn stand for? Is it short for something? I've tossed it around in my head and all I can come up with is Finley. Or Finnley I guess. I guess that's more than one question, but I can't help myself. But you haven't given me a lot to go on, you know. You've just given me his first name. I know I've asked a lot of you, but anything you can tell me would be most helpful. I want to know everything, and if you haven't talked to him in 17 years…than I need to find him. Not just for me…but for you too._

 _Harper.  
_

She had tried Finn Hummel in the registry, with no luck. She had tried the same combination in google, facebook and anywhere else she could think of. Nothing came back. No hits. She could only deduce one thing. He didn't have the same last name as Grandma Carole.

She was about to log off, head downstairs and see if her parents had made lunch yet, when the alert of another message beeped from the screen. She immediately leaned down and hovered over the mouse to click on the message. It was from Carole and only held two words.

Finn Hudson.


	8. Chapter 8

Hope this satisfies your need for another installment! Not sure when the next one will be, as this is my busiest time of the year! Hopefully another one before the end of the year at least! ****

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**Chapter 8**

 _Finn Hudson._ Harper tossed the name around in her mouth, whispering it under her breath as to not rouse any suspicion from her parents. She felt the three syllables slip between her lips and she couldn't help the squeal that emitted from her lips. Everything seemed to fall into place in that moment. She knew the name now. She knew _his_ name now.

She wanted to scream it from the roof tops. She now had her birth father's name. It couldn't be that hard now, right? To find him? She couldn't help the smile that seemed to take over her cheeks in that moment, the warming of the excitement rising to her cheeks. A small squeal came from her lips.

Harper nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard the knock on her door. She grabbed for her heart as her bedroom door opened.

"Am I interrupting something?" Scott laughed softly as he leaned against the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest.

"No," she laughed softly. Harper quickly stood up from her chair and reached to close the computer with a snap. "Is lunch ready?" she stretched her hands over her head and took all of her wild hair in her hand before she let it fall down her back, effectively airing out the back of her neck.

"Yeah, it's ready. Mom made chicken quesadillas and tomato soup," Scott smiled as he turned to leave the room ahead of her.

"Sounds good," she smiled as she followed him down the hallway and towards the kitchen.

The aroma of the lunch filled her nostrils, and it instantly made the smile that had found its way to her face grow wider. Sunday lunches were always a special tradition her family kept alive, as much as they could. It was every weekend when she was younger – sometimes they were even joined by her Grandma, or her Grandpa or even the whole extended family; and as much as she loved those days – she loved the lunches that she got to have with just her parents. The smells that surrounded her right now, the warmth of the tomato soup and the sharpness of the cheese her Mom had used in the quesadilla's sparked memories of cold winter days just like this one and for a small moment she was transported to a time when things were simpler, not just for her – but her family as well.

Harper wasn't sure how they were going to respond to the news that she had found her birth father – _Finn's_ – name. She was excited about it, about the prospects of filling in blank and discovering her past, which she hoped would help her future. In her heart, she knew her parents supported her. But she couldn't help but wonder if the news of crossing another step in the birth parents journey would crush them.

"Harp?" her mother's chuckle. "Where'd you go kid?" she laughed.

"What?" Harper shook her head, and came back down to the conversation she had obviously missed while her mind had wandered. "What happened?"

"Mom asked if you want juice or a soda with lunch," Scott laughed as he bit into his quesadilla. "Diane, that's super hot," he coughed as he tried to swallow.

Harper couldn't help but laugh as she watched her Dad for a moment before she dove into her soup.

"I told you to wait," Diane laughed softly. "Still, Harper – juice or soda," she asked again.

"Oh. Sorry, just water please," she smiled as she took another spoonful of soup. The warmth of the liquid slid down her throat. "Dad, this isn't as hot," she winked after she had swallowed.

"Very funny kid, very funny," Scott laughed as Diane came back to the table with her glass of water.

Harper reached for it as soon as the glass was set down on the surface of the table. "Thanks Mom," she nodded before taking a sip.  
Diane nodded her response before she sat down at her own place at the table.

* * *

Carole Hummel sat back in her computer chair, the weight and feeling of what she had just unleashed. Her hands shook as she reached for the tea cup to the right side of her computer screen. She took the cup in her hands, the tea inside long gone cold from when she poured it from the kettle. She had tried to work up her courage to send the last message to the young woman she had been exchanging with for the past few days. But now that the message was gone, sent over to the young 18-year-old she was sure was her granddaughter, she felt the icy cold feeling of regret flood through her older veins. She rubbed at her neck as she stared at the screen, the little sent checkmark the focus of her stare. She couldn't help but feel the deep nagging in her chest, that maybe she had done the wrong thing – maybe she had revealed too much, maybe she had given away what the girl – Harper – had wanted to know. Her heart beat rapidly, thinking about if the young woman on the other side of the exchange was in fact her granddaughter, and the repercussions if for some reason she wasn't. Not just for the young woman she had come to know, but for Finn.

Just thinking his name did things to her heart that she had grown used to. The years of separation had been hard on her, there was no putting that mildly. She missed him, every single day since the last time she saw him. They had been close, at one time, for most of his youth until he graduated high school. And then things had fallen apart. She had never grown used to the feelings of hurt, regret and even fear that just thinking his name brought up within her. She feared greatly as time went on that she would never see him again; that this years' long silence they had been enduring would last long after her life had ended. Some of her closest friends told her that as time went on it would get easier, the pain would subside and it would stop from being the burning ache that resided inside. It never got easier, the pain of losing her only child was a pain that for Carole, never felt like it would go away.

"There you are," her husband Burt's gruff voice brought her out of her trance. "What are you hiding in here for?" Burt walked in, leaning heavily on his cane as he did so. She slowly turned in her chair, wiping at her face to dismiss the tears that were just starting to form. Carole reached for her mug even though it was now empty, for something to do with her hands.

"I found her Burt," she whispered thickly.

"Found who?" he asked gruffly.

"Our granddaughter," she whispered. She looked up at Burt and she could see the confusion spreading over his features. His son, Kurt, had given them two grandsons and a granddaughter, by both adoption and surrogacy respectively. "My Finny's daughter," she added softly as she slowly rose from the chair and looked at Burt intently. "I found her," she whispered as she reached out to hug him.

* * *

"She told me his name," the words slipped out from Harper's lips before she could think about the repercussions. A deafening silence seemed to descend on them moments before. That had been happening a lot lately, and Harper couldn't put her finger on when it had become, or really when it had started. Maybe it was even just something that naturally happens when families hit a certain point in life.

"Excuse me?" the clang of cutlery hit her ears. "Who told you whose name?" her mother's voice was the first to cut through.

"I got a hit on the registry," she started. She darted her eyes around the room before she brought them to her parents who were staring at her just as intently as she suspected. "Carole Hummel. She's my birth father's, mother…my grandmother, I suppose." The words stammered out of her mouth, in what felt like a slow-motion rush. It felt different now, saying it out loud for the first time.

"Why didn't..." whatever sentence she was going to say, whatever thought was collecting in her Mother's brain stopped short and Harper watched her set her features to appear calmer. "When did she contact you?" she asked softly.

She took a moment to think back to the first message that Carole had sent her. It had only been Wednesday evening when the message came, but it felt to her that it had been much longer than that.

"I got the first message on Wednesday night," she whispered softly. Her throat went dry as she watched her parents share a look between each other that she couldn't quite read.

Her Father was the first to clear his throat, break the stare both him and her Mother were having and turn his attention to her full on. "So, how did she tell you then? It was just the one message that she sent?" he asked firmly.

Diane cut in. "How can we even be sure that it really is her?" she asked with pursed lips.

"Mom," Harper puffed out her cheeks, exasperated in a flash by the line of questioning her parents were spitting at her. They had been with her when she signed up, read the fine print of the terms and conditions with her so they all fully knew what registering entitled. One of the things that had assured her parents, and her, that it was safe – were those safe guards. "You knew just as I did what the registry entitled. That there were background checks and all of that fancy background stuff…plus, she told me things…things that only we," she gestured to them around the table. "Would know. Like the time I was born, what hospital I was born at and that she never even got a chance to hold me before my Birth Father and Birth Mother gave me, to you," she sighed.

"That's not the way adoption works anyway, Harp," Scott sighed. He leaned back on his chair and crossed his hands in front of his chest. "She wouldn't have been able to hold you either way," he sighed softly. "What else has she told you?"

When she didn't answer at first, both her parents cleared their throats. "She hasn't told me too much," she offered. "Just that her and my birth father haven't spoken basically since the time I was born," she sighed. "But she did tell me his name, so that gives me a great place to start or continue my search," she perked up. "His name is Finn Hudson, not short for anything. Just Finn." She could feel the smile on her cheeks, and she hoped in that moment the expression on her face wasn't too much. It was quite relieving to be able to talk about even just his name, more freely with her parents.

Scott immediately shot a look towards Diane, one that wasn't missed by Harper. But she couldn't quite read the messages that were being passed between the two of them. She could usually read them, a product of being both close with her parents and an only child. But this time she couldn't. There was a wave passing between them that she couldn't seem to even touch.

"You said his name was Finn? Finn Hudson?" her Father asked slowly, and to Harper it felt like he was trying to memorize the name.

"Yes. Finn Hudson," she confirmed. "That's what she told me. Carole said he was her only child," she added as another thought.

As she said the words, Harper felt like a light bulb went off in side of her. Her first connection to her birth father that brought a warmth to her skin and her heart – they were both only children.

The scraping of her Father's chair against the floor brought her back down to earth. She had been getting lost in her thoughts ever since she had read the two words that formed her birth Father's name. She felt jumpy as she looked around the table, her eyes landing on her Father's retreating back. Her Mother was already on her feet starting to clear the lunch dishes. Harper didn't know what to say, as they moved around her – Scott picked up the phone and from her vantage point seemed to dial a number quickly, whether from memory or off of a paper she couldn't see. Harper tensed, and took her lip between her teeth as a result. They worked in tandem, their movements mirror images of each other as they took care of the tasks they had chosen. She wanted to know about the phone call her father was trying to have, but she also wanted to slip away from the tense atmosphere she could feel around her, the thickness that had swallowed them from the moment she had shared the information she had learned. Her own chair dragged along the floor as she pushed it backwards to stand up. She slipped from the room just as she heard her Dad speak into the phone, her Birth Father's name were the last words she heard as she headed for her room.

Harper let out the long breath she hadn't realized she had been holding, once she was back in the safety of her bedroom. She hadn't expected her parents to react so coldly with her announcement. She hadn't planned on them interrogating her, wanting to know more about the conversations she'd had. The breath she released cleansed herself of the tension, but did nothing for the disappointment she felt.

* * *

"She found him," Diane's voice shook a bit when Scott finally hung up the phone. He put the phone down on the counter and turned to look at Diane. He didn't say anything. Instead, he walked over to Diane and wrapped his arms around her slowly, a practice they had perfected over the years. He pulled her close as he gave her a moment to calm down.

"She found him. Well, her biological Grandmother told her about him," he sighed. "This was bound to happen. We were prepared for this."

"But you can't tell me you thought it would be this quick?" she asked softly.

Scott sighed once more. "I don't know what I thought. But what I do know is that she wants to know where she came from. And we have to support her, because she needs us to. If we don't, she's going to go out and do it herself and when she gets her heart broken I want to be there instead of hearing about it afterwards," he finished.

Diane sighed deeply.

"I called the adoption agency that we used. Paul had suggested that we utilize them if we got any hits on the registry. Something about being able to activate some chain of notification system they have," he paused. "I let them know she had gotten the name of her birth father. They seemed to know what to do after that."

Diane pulled away from him for a moment, pursed her lips as she looked up at him. "We're doing the right thing, right Scott?" she whispered, an uncertainty that he wasn't unfamiliar with tingling in her voice.

"We have to-for Harper," he whispered as he kissed her forehead. "The adoption agency – they're going to send him a letter, based on the files they have. I guess there's some separate directory they can access, once the parties 'know'," he sighed. "So we have time to get used to the idea."

* * *

Harper sat at her computer. She stared at the messages that had gone back and forth between she and Carole. She tried to think of what to do with the information. She wanted to find him now, know him now – but it seemed like the road in front of her was much longer than she had expected. She tried to distract herself, lose herself in her friends and other followers but the images did little to abate her curiosity, and the tug to find one Finn Hudson won out. She navigated away from Instagram and found her way to google. The blank page stared back at her, the dancing images of the animation of the day entranced her for a moment before she finally clicked back into the moment. She hastily inputted Finn's name into the search bar and clicked go.

Harper wasn't sure what she was expecting when she typed his name into google. When the results came back, the first link was to a Facebook account.  
"Facebook," she mumbled under her breath. "Why didn't I try there first?"

She'd had her own Facebook account since she was 15 years old, though she didn't use it as much these days as she had a few years ago. She had moved to other social media but her own account was still active. She clicked the first link, and held her breath as she waited for the page to load. It took a mere moment, but it was enough for her to feel her anxieties rise . She let the breath flow out from between her lips when the page was full loaded.  
"Finn Hudson," she whispered into the quiet of the room around her. "Who are you?"

The page was all but dormant. She tried to scroll down, but the settings on the page allowed her to see next to nothing about her birth father. A shiver ran down her spine as the title slipped through her mind as she stared at the picture in the profile she had chosen. A young man stared back at her, with eyes that were the same colour of Ginger Ale, an amber colour of sorts. If she had to guess, the picture had to be at least a couple of years old.

The man in front of her looked young, and when she clicked on it to make it bigger a time stamp allowed her to accurately date the photo back to 10 years ago – longer than she had assumed at first glance. The man in the picture, with short brown hair and the eyes that seemed to follow her even when she looked away, was an enigma to her. Someone she could now clearly picture but she knew nothing about. She stared, memorizing the image so it would forever be engraved in her mind, as if the image would suddenly evaporate.  
"Who are you?" she whispered again into the quiet. She couldn't see his friends, she couldn't determine or languish over which one of the women on the list was her Birth Mother. It's like he was hiding something from someone. Or maybe, he just didn't want to be found at all. But she had found him.

Harper clicked the little button at the top of the page that allowed her to send him a message. She held her breath for a moment, as her hands remained poised over the keyboard. Suddenly every thought she had was frozen, she didn't know what she wanted to say. There was so much that she wanted to say, but she felt the pile up of words unspoken at the back of her throat. Finally, after moments of fog she shook herself into clarity. She simply wrote 'hello', and hit send before she could write anything else or overthink the message.


	9. Chapter 9

Guess whose back? Back again? Welcome to 2018! I'm sorry this took so long! But I hope you enjoy it. I've taken some creative liberties with some aspects of this chapter. Thank you.

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 **Chapter 9**  
Rachel waited in the small examination room, her bottom lip firmly stuck between both rows of her teeth. The paper of the dress she had been given was scratchy against her skin, and did little to calm the nerves she felt were rising. She hated waiting, her time was precious – she had to get to the theatre for the evening show. She wasn't sure why she was nervous – she was meticulous about her health, went to bed early and slept at minimum a full 8 hours a night, took multiple vitamins that both helped her voice and stamina and absolutely did not drink much or smoke. Even still, she was getting older – pushing 40; the very thought of the double-digit number made her feel ill at the thought. She should be used to these check-ups like the one she had just experienced, it was a part of her contract with her representation, a request not unheard of throughout the Broadway community. Common practice to keep up with the health and well-being of performers. The life style she kept, with shows Tuesday through Saturday and two on Sunday was not always conducive for some, and regular well-being check-ups kept her in place, physically at least.

A short rap on the door startled her from her thoughts, and Rachel forced herself to sit up straighter on the examination bed. She released her lip from her teeth and expelled a breath as her physician, Dr. Furman stepped into the room.

"I'm sorry if I've kept you waiting," the older gentleman stepped into the room with care and Rachel waited for him to close the door before she responded to his question.

"It's okay," she sighed as she allowed herself to slouch a little as she waited.

"I wanted to wait for all of your results to come back before I returned. I know you're a very busy woman," he added.

"Thank you," she nodded gently. It startled her a bit that it had taken him so long to come back with what was simply a few blood draws.

Dr. Furman grabbed his wheeled stool and sat down before flipping through the folder he had brought in with him – one thing Rachel liked about the practice – they still did things simply, and she appreciated that.

"Everything looks good with your blood work," Dr. Furman nodded along with his words.

Rachel felt a rush of relief flush through her veins in that moment. She knew there would be nothing to find but she felt relief nonetheless. She knew it wasn't possible being adopted herself, but her fathers continued declining health had her constantly thinking of her own.

"We do need to discuss though, your future plans."

The older physicians words caught her off guard, and Rachel felt herself becoming rigid again as she waited for what he had to say next.  
"Future plans?" she asked softly, the worry she had supressed just a few moments before came crawling back into her voice.

"It's nothing to be alarmed of," he started softly. "While your blood work returned normal on most levels, when compared to the draw made six months ago there does seem to be a slight decline in your hormone levels. Not a lot, but just enough to highlight a difference between your previous blood draw."

Rachel sat quietly for a moment, allowing his words to sink in. It was something itself that she had been choosing to ignore, her increasing age. She knew the ticking clock was looming a head of her. Approaching 40 wasn't something that necessarily scared her, it just…put her on edge. The thought of turning 40 with only a few Tony's on her mantel and a cat who some days could careless how late she was out, to show for it did funny things to her heart and her stomach when she really gave it time to sink in.

"For many women menopause doesn't begin for many more years, most notoriously in their 40's. But some women experience a gradual decline in the hormone estrogen starting in their late 30's to early 40's. I only bring this up, Miss. Berry, as you have expressed in previous appointments that children were something you always saw in your future."

Rachel could only nod. She remembered at her first appointment with Dr. Furman, she had answered and extensive amount of questions at intake – starting with her history that included her being adopted at birth and the information she had about her birth mother Shelby, to the healthy baby girl she had delivered 18 years ago. She dreamed then, and quite often enough in the last few years about having a family for herself. But she was married to her career. She lived and breathed being on that stage and now…now she was being confronted by the fact that that dream she had long shelved away, but might very well be slipping through her fingers.

"Like I said, the drop in the hormone levels has only been slight, minuscule at best if you were to compare to other patients of the same age. But it is something to consider, Miss Berry, if you wish to build a family."

* * *

Finn normally didn't make house-calls. In fact, he preferred to just work in the comfort of his garage, particularly after dark if he could help it. Long projects were his favourite, figuring out why a car was making this noise or that, or why a truck's battery keeps burning out and so forth. He liked the challenge, and if he could he would only take those kinds of projects, he would. But he had bills to pay, food to buy and…not much else. He kept his shop open normal operating hours, extending sometimes when it fit his and his customers needs and only then. He was one of two mechanics in the small town, and he liked it that way most days.

Finn pulled his truck over in front of the house of one of his regulars. A cold winter bite had come into the area late last night, and as he jumped out of his truck Finn made sure to grab his hat and pulled it over his head before he walked up the driveway. He shoved his hands in his gloves he had stored in his pocket as he walked past the old clunker he was sure was the reason for the call. He blew a long breath, the puff of air hanging in front of him as he made his way up the walk.

"I knew you would come!" the older woman at the door, Mrs. Mabel Jefferson, opened the creaky screen door so he could step into the foyer of the small house. Finn didn't look around too much. He was impatient to get home himself, he was starving and knew he still needed to take Huck out for even the shortest of walks. The old pup would be waiting for him.

"Of course, Mrs. Jefferson," he smiled softly. He didn't move to take off his hat or his gloves as he gazed at the older, frailer woman. "Now what seems to be the trouble?' he asked slowly.

"In a hurry?" she asked softly as she moved further into the house. Finn, for his part, stayed on the small mat at the front door. "Hank! Finn is here!" she yelled with a bellow that Finn was astonished to hear.

"Already?" Finn cringed at the volume of the older mans voice. Mabel and Hank had been his best customers, and one of the first customers he had had on his very first day. Hence the reason he was standing at their door, waiting to see what was wrong the old clunker in the driveway. He only described it that way as the car was probably close to his own age, and quite a bitch to fix. Finn hoped it was something simple.

"Yes!" Mabel yelled back. The shout startled him, but he was partially used to it. The Jefferson's were both hard of hearing, and the yelling just came with them.

Hank came walking, slowly but surely with the aid of his walker. "Hello Finn," he nodded as he walked.

"Hank," he smiled. "Is it the Buick again?" he asked. Hank always talked fondly about his car. As soon as the words left his mouth, he could almost predict what the older gentleman was going to say next.

"That tincan….so many issues," he shook his head. "But they just don't make 'em like they used to." Finn couldn't help but smile as his prediction came true. "Stupid thing won't start…"

Finn sighed. A starting issue. That could be any number of things, and he quickly tried to remember what he had replaced on the older vehicle within the last little bit. The Jefferson's continued to sink money into the vehicle and Finn was starting to feel bad about taking it. There was no talking to them though, Hank still loved his Buick.

"Did you leave the lights on again?" Finn smiled.

Hank scoffed as Mabel shuffled out of the room as they started to talk about the cars issues. Hank shook his head. "No. I didn't drive it at all today and now it won't start…"

Finn nodded slowly. So it couldn't be the battery, maybe. He pulled his glove off to scratch his chin, the scruff on his face a few days old and it was starting to irritate him. "Alright, let me take a look. Maybe I can try to jump it, I have the portable in my truck," he sighed softly.

Hank nodded and handed him the keys to the car. Finn braced himself to go back out into the bitter cold. He hoped it was just a boost. As annoying as it was to make a house call just for that, it was the best possible result for such a bitterly cold evening. He turned on his heel and headed back to his truck, trying to move fast so he could limit the time he was stuck in the bitter cold. His truck was even still warm from the drive over and if Finn had half a mind he would sit in it for a minute to warm up. But when he turned his head, he found both Hank and Mabel staring back at him through the large bay window in the living room. He took a big breath and moved to the backseat of the truck and grabbed the portable battery charger he had taken from the shop on the way out tonight.

He walked briskly to the Buick in the driveway. He had to remove one of his gloves to get the old hood open. He couldn't see much, and he had to reach into the pocket of his khakis for his phone to shine a light. Everything looked good to him at first glance. He sighed and decided to try to turn the car on to see what was going on. He pulled the door open and got inside. He shivered against the cold as he tried to start the old Buick. It let out an angry squeal as he tried to get it to turn over and Finn sighed. He stopped for a moment, rubbing his face before trying again with the same results.

Finn got to work setting up the portable battery charger. It was the simplest solution, and by listening to the poor vehicle he determined it was probably the culprit. The battery looked old, and he made a note to grab them one from the supply catalogue when he made an order in the morning. He set up the rods and waited for them to charge. He looked up to the sky and blew out a breath as he waited for the charger to do its' job. The puff hung in the air after it left his mouth.

It seemed to take forever in the cold air of the evening, but when Finn started the car over again it roared to life. Finn thanked his lucky stars that that was all it was. He let it run for a few minutes to make sure it was charging well before he made the trek back up to the front door.

He almost chuckled when he saw that Mabel and Hank were waiting for him at the door.

"Well son?" Hank asked.

Finn laughed. "It's your battery," he sighed. "It's toast. This cold isn't doing anyone any favours, I think. I've got it charging but I'm going to get you a new one from my supplier in the morning."

Hank nodded. Finn tucked his hands in his pockets. "For now, just sit tight in the house okay? It's freezing out there and even though the battery is charging, it might not start again. I can bring the battery by when it comes in and swap it out for you quickly."

Hank nodded. Finn knew from experience he would need a minute to absorb. He knew a lot about the older man, knew he had been good with hands and worked as a plumber for most of his life. They had one child, a daughter, who for the first few years they tried hard to set Finn up with until she moved to California and announced she had found her partner named Liv.

"How much do we owe you?" Hank asked softly. Mabel had come out from the living room, and Finn could see the flowered check book in hand as she made her way towards him.

"No charge," he smiled as he pulled his hat out from his pocket. "I'll call you before I come over to let you know I'm on my way," he nodded as he pulled the toque down over his ears and offered the older couple a smile.

"Finn," Mable chastised for a moment.

Finn held his hand up with a smile on his face. "It was no trouble," he smiled. "I was on my way home any way," he smiled.

Both Mabel and Hank's features softened almost in tandem. Hank cleared his throat. "Well, thank you very much Finn," Hank said softly.

He smiled and moved to leave the modest house.

"Wait! Let me grab you a piece of apple pie! I just made it this morning, and it's been warming in the oven," Mabel insisted as she backed away. "Don't let him leave Hank!" Mabel yelled as she shuffled back to the kitchen, quicker than Finn had ever seen her move before.

* * *

Rachel let the hot water surround her, her tired body sinking below the bubbles until her back rested firmly against the lush bath pillow on the back of the tub. The water, to some, would be scalding, but to her after a busy day like today it was just right. Add in a splash of her favourite bath foam, some Epsom salts for her tired muscles, candles for the senses and wine for her tongue – it was a perfect evening. She had set her iPad to play a soothing playlist on Spotify, and allowed herself to just sink into the water as she sipped the rich red liquid. Her eyes closed after she placed the glass to the side, and allowed everything from the day just float away with the pop of a bubble.

After her appointment with Dr. Furman, she had to run quickly to the theatre in order to be on time for the evening show. It wasn't her best show by any means, and she knew it – she didn't need to see the faces of her cast-mates and director to know that much. She felt it in her bones. The news she had received at her appointment had startled her enough to distract her from the tasks at hand once she had arrived at the theatre. She had simply gone through the motions, and on this cool evening she had gone quickly through the small crowd at the stage door before rushing home to where she was now. Rachel opened her eyes to take another sip of her wine, as the music switched songs. She slushed the wine around in her cheeks before she swallowed and allowed for a loud sigh to leave her lips as she tried to calm herself down enough to sleep, but her mind wouldn't stop. Once an idea planted in her mind it was difficult to turn off, and the news that she might not have the family she always wanted had taken root within her and didn't seem to want to leave.

Rachel had always thought there would be time for a family. But failed relationship after failed relationship occurred over the years, some close together, some further apart and did nothing to satisfy her once vivid dream.

She swallowed another sip of wine, further emptying the glass before she put it down beside her. She sighed deeply as the warmth of the wine flowed through her steadily, calming her nerves and making her a little sleepy. She allowed the music to float her away for just a moment.  
But as quickly as peace descended upon her, it floated away when a feeling of regret for choices she had made in the past took over.

* * *

Finn had decided against reheating the stew he had made last night, in favour of picking up take-out from the burger shack down the road from the Jefferson's. He knew take-out didn't solve many problems, but on a night like tonight where his fingers were freezing from the cold of working with the Jefferson's car and he just didn't have it in him to cook, even if it was just reheating something. He opted for a greasy burger that would have made his younger self salivate just by the picture alone and some tater tots. Huck liked the tater tots best.

When he arrived at the house, it had started to lightly snow. Finn cursed the cold snap. Snow in this town sent people in to a tizzy unlike he had never seen. As much as he tried to warn his regular customers about snow tires and topping up fluids, there was always a flurry of panicked calls as the first snow fell. He was sure if he dialed in to the voicemail of the shop he would find at least a handful of panicked messages. He parked the truck so there was enough room for him to get the snow-blower out of the garage before work tomorrow. He heard Huck's bark from inside. The old pup was probably worried about him, coming in later than he usually did.

"I hear you Huck, I hear you," he mumbled as he made his way quickly up the small set of stairs that led to the front door of his small house. He balanced the bag of food in his hand as he fished into his pocket to fidget with his keys with his other hand. He just jammed the door open as Huck came bounding towards him, barking. It was then that he noticed the letter on the mat in front of his door, a bright yellow sticky note attached to the outside of the envelope.

 _"Delivery guy wanted to leave this with me. Didn't know if I would see you tonight.  
-Chuck"_

Chuck was his next door neighbour. The houses on this particular street were built closer together, the lots small but deep. He had a huge backyard, perfect for Huck to run on nights like tonight when he just didn't feel like taking him for a walk. Huck preferred walks, but Finn just didn't have it in him tonight. At all. Chuck was older than Finn by quite a few years, and had met when Finn had noticed Chuck working on his old Bonneville in his driveway the summer after he bought the house. Finn considered the older man to be his closest 'buddy' in town, and he used the term loosely. It felt weird to use it to describe his relationship with his 40+ year old neighbor. They hung out often, Chuck was a single guy himself, except his was due to divorce.

Finn bent to pick up the envelope. He rarely got mail, and for a moment he wondered if it was something from back home. He was well aware of his own age, and where that put his mother on the aging scale. With no return address on the envelope visible on the front, he grabbed the envelope and took it with him to the kitchen as Huck danced around his feet.

"Sorry I was late buddy," he sighed as he brought the food and letter to the counter. Huck for his part gave a half bark half sullen growl. "I know. I know, but look…I brought tater tots," he smiled a little at the old pup. He reached into the bag and grabbed a few of the fried potatoes and tossed a couple at Huck, who for his part jumped high enough to grab the tasty treat. Finn hoped it was enough to earn him forgiveness from the old pup. He grabbed a plate and as he started to unpack his dinner the envelope kept taunting him from its resting spot on the counter. He fingered the edge of the envelope as he debated the contents. The envelope was small, legal sized and white in colour. It didn't feel particularly heavy. Finn's mind was going into overdrive as he continued to just hold the envelope in his hand. Huck returned to dancing around his feet and Finn tossed him a few more tater tots onto the ground to occupy him as he finally tried to make a final decision about the envelope. He finally chose to just open it, and immediately set about ripping the top of the envelope as gently as he could to not rip the contents.

His heart immediately started to race when he finally got to the paper in the envelope. The moment he read the letterhead it felt like the room around him went blurry. Everything seemed to come a standstill as he held the flimsy letter in his hand, his eyes only focusing on the letterhead to start.

 _Sunnybrook Adoption Agency - 249 E 92nd Street, New York City.  
_  
Finn felt like all the blood had drained from his face as he held the paper, the words that followed blurred into a big rush of words that all came together. He had to blink several times to clear his vision before he could focus on what followed.

 _Dear Mr. Hudson,  
I am writing to inform you that we have received notification that the child which you gave up for adoption on November 10th 2015 has reached out for information about her parentage. As per New York State law, the information to which the child requests is under seal. In addition, at the time it was requested that the adoption proceed under the faculties of a closed adoption. Because the child is 18, by law we are required to leave this information with you. Due to the nature of a closed adoption, no information will be shared without your consent._

If you have any questions or require further information or direction about opening a closed adoption, please contact our offices at (212) 123-4567, ex. 101.

Regards,  
Neil Johnstone  
Director of Adoption Records

Finn didn't know what to do. He didn't know what to say. He didn't really have anyone to talk to about the information he had gathered in the short, one-page letter. More than anything, he felt numb. He reread parts of the letter over and over and the ones that stuck out the most _reached out for information about her parentage_ stuck out the most and even if it was the lighting tricking his eyes, seemed to center itself on the page the more he looked at it. The words started to dance on the page as his eyes crossed themselves from staring so hard at the words.

And all at once he felt sick to his stomach. It took him a moment, but he pulled the chair out at the nearby table and fell back into it before his knees grew week enough for him to fall. He dropped his head to his hands and tried to will away the feeling that seemed to take him over. He shakily pulled at the ends of his hair as he tried to get himself under control.

When they – he – had given his little girl up for adoption and chosen to keep it closed, his heart had gone with her. He knew going into d-day, as he referred to it as, that she was going to go to another family. They had discussed it over and over for months on end. They had discussed the pros of closed and open adoptions until it all became a blur until they finally came to a unified decision.

One that he regretted every single day since.

Finn took a deep, gasping breath as he tried bringing himself back to reality.

She wanted to know him. She wanted to find him. And suddenly he felt the room seeming to grow warmer at the prospect of his greatest wish coming to fruition.

He took another deep breath and sat back a bit in his chair, to find Huck patiently waiting at his feet, the thumping of his tail bringing Finn back to reality for a moment. Huck yipped when Finn stared at him.

"She wants to know who I am, Huck," he whispered thickly. He blindly reached for the bag and grabbed a few more tater tots from the counter above him and tossed them to Huck before grabbing his burger that moments ago was all he wanted.

* * *

He couldn't stay in the house. Finn grabbed his keys, fed Huck the burger that was going cold and bundled up once more. He didn't have any idea about where he wanted to go, but he knew he just needed to get out of the house. With Huck firmly distracted by the burger and more tater tots, he slipped out of the house and headed for his truck. His mind felt fuzzy, and he wasn't sure what he was doing. Driving probably wasn't the best decision, especially given that the snow was starting to fall a little harder than it had been when he arrived home. Finn jumped in his truck before he gave one more cognizant thought about what he was about to do. He fired the large vehicle to life and shivered against the cold temperature of the cab, how quickly it had changed, and waited for it to warm.

Once he was on the road, it was like everything he had felt back at the house was magnified. With not much to distract his mind aside from staying on the road and the steady hum of the back and forth of the windshield wipers, his mind ran away again. And unlike at the house, his mind went to all of the negative situations that could possibly be linked to his daughters request for information.  
Maybe she was sick?  
Maybe she wanted to tell him she didn't care?  
Maybe she wanted money? (which he didn't have a whole lot of, but he would give it to her if that was the case.)  
Maybe she wanted to tell him that she was glad a fuck up like him wasn't the father who raised her?  
The last thought hit him straight in the heart. Over the years he had dreamed intermittently about what a reunion with the daughter he gave up would look like. In every incarnation of the dream it had a happy ending. It always entailed how she was excited and happy to meet with him. But thinking about it today, right now, all of the negative situations hit him, and it didn't feel good at all. Just like the day he had signed his name on the dotted line and gave her over to her new family.

He didn't even know her name. They hadn't had a say in what the adoptive parents named her. It was part of the closed adoption rules, he supposed.

Finn drove until the road started to get blurry, and his thoughts became disconnected. He was smart enough to turn around when he couldn't go any further, and arrived home to a still house, no Huck barking into the darkness like what was now hours before. Because Huck was old, Finn had to laugh to himself – just like he was – and he should have been in bed hours ago. But to admit that the letter had shook him had a great impact on his state of mind, and internal clock as it was.

He stepped out of the truck into the freezing night and did his best to cross the small bit of his driveway to his side door quickly. This way Huck really wouldn't hear him and start barking his head off. He crept into the house as quietly as he could, bumping his knee on the shoe rack he kept by the back door.

"Fuck!" he whisper-yelled as the pain throbbed. This wasn't his finest moment, that was for sure. He continued through the small house and dumped his jacket on a kitchen chair and kicked his boots back by the door he had just entered. Bed. He needed to go to bed. He rubbed his face hard as he mechanically followed his way through the house by memory. When he reached bedroom he immediately dropped his pants, before pulling off his plaid button door and long sleeved shirt that was underneath. Even dressed for the weather he still felt the chill of the cold, winter air. He didn't bother with pyjamas, no matter how cold it was and dropped into bed unceremoniously.

But he couldn't sleep. He couldn't even bring himself to try and close his eyes. With his mind running as it was, there was no chance of sleeping luring him any time soon. He huffed, and against his better judgement grabbed his phone to play a few rounds of Candy Crush. That always seemed to get him to sleep quickly. He wasn't particularly good at the matching game.

But as he brought the phone to life, one red dot drew his attention away from the terrible game. He sighed as he stared for a moment at the red dot that hovered over his email icon. The only people he received emails from these days were suppliers and a whole lot of junk mail. Sometimes he got random ones from his step-brother, Kurt, but he chose to ignore those most of the time. Kurt was part of a different life.

But this email was from facebook. He hadn't used the social media service in years, and had even deleted the app. He couldn't even be certain that he remembered his password anymore to log into the website as it was.

Against his better judgement, he opened the email. The subject read that he had a message waiting for him on the site. This time he let curiosity bite him, against every part of his psyche telling him not to. It was probably one of those stupid group messages for some school anniversary or something of the like. He didn't get many of them anymore, ignore the first few and people stopped inviting you he found.

What he didn't expect was what he found. After several attempts at getting the password right, he was finally in and clicked the message icon.

 _Harper Richards._

Something in him told him this was big, and his heart pounded quickly in his chest.

He sat there for a moment, staring at the message. It was the only one there; he never saved messages.

He hesitantly clicked on the message, despite the thumping in his ears and in his heart. It seemed to take forever for the message to load and he almost shut down the app as he waited. But then the message came to fruition on his screen and all his heart pumping seemed to halt.

The message was simple. All it said, was _hello._


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Harper felt all of her muscles tense as she waited for Facebook to load. She had tried to distract herself by taking a shower, but the hot water and smell of pink grapefruit body wash only momentarily took her thoughts away from the situation at hand. She bit her nails as the log in screen fully loaded and she almost ripped her nail at the quick as she stumbled to input her information.

It had been a rough two days, there was no doubt about that. Harper's stomach constantly felt tied up in knots, and the anxiety associated with the anticipation of Finn's response to her message felt like it as eating her alive. It consumed her thoughts, so much so that she had buried the app on her phone to limit her distractions – though the notifications still popped up from time to time. Every time she saw the little red dot she felt her hopes rise even the slightest bit – and every time it wasn't a message from Finn, her hopes dashed just a little further towards the gutter. Disappointment ravaged her every thought, distracting her from her school work and even causing her to strike out at volleyball practice just that morning. It was consuming her every thought, and as the page loaded in front of her she half-heartedly scrolled a bit before she dragged her eyes to the message section.

She tried not to get excited when the little red dot alerted her to the presence of two messages in her inbox. Her dejectedness was rewarded when she opened it up to find a message from her cousin, as well as one for a group project for English. Harper slumped back against the pillows of her bed as she quickly typed out a response to her cousin before she answered the message in the school group chat. But the message she sent Finn two days ago taunted her once she was back in the main message screen. She clicked on his name hastily and the same image she had been faced with for the last day or so.

 _Hello_ – **Seen by Finn Hudson**

Nothing had changed in the past two days and Harper was beginning to feel the weight of the words in front of her crushing her on the inside. She sat back on her chair and felt the weight of disappointment covering her. She felt foolish, thinking of how the disappointment was affecting her so strongly. It was one word; not like she had written him a novel or spewed all the questions she had that were just on the tip of her tongue. The word didn't have implications or connotations of what she was looking for, from him. But it was the fact that she had gone out on a limb with messaging him, hoping it was her birth father on the other end and she hadn't gotten it completely wrong.

But it also didn't change that he hadn't responded. Harper had never wrestled, ever, with the fact that she was adopted. Her parents had always been open since she was old enough to understand what it meant – but there were questions they didn't have the answer to. And for some of them, she hadn't ever expected them to know the answers. But that didn't mean they just went away. With every message she had received from Carole, her hope had ignited and her interest piqued. But the denial she felt right now, ached. It hurt to feel that maybe she had been too optimistic about this whole journey. The longer the moments ticked by, the more it seemed to Harper that maybe it was time to take off the rose-coloured glasses and admit that maybe this wasn't a good idea. She closed off the website, choosing instead to turn her focus to the homework she had to complete for the next day.

But the assignment failed to keep her attention for longer than a split second. Her mind kept dragging her away from the article she was reading that had to be summarized and critiqued for tomorrows history class. She couldn't focus on the words about World War 2 that she was trying to digest. She had been working at this project for a few days, and her focus just refused to stay on the topic at hand. She spun around on the chair for a moment, facing her bed which was littered with the rest of her school books – most all related to assignments that she had to complete. She gently rubbed her face with an intense focus on her eyes, trying to wake herself up a little bit to get through the mound of work she needed to complete. She had put off all her work for tonight, something that drove her type A, organized ways crazy. She was one for prioritizing her assignments and studying and had been one of the reasons she had been successful this far in her schooling. The calendar in front of her was littered with due dates for all of her school work and it was hard for her not to notice the submission date for her Yale essay was closing in at an alarming rate.

Harper tried desperately for another few moments to focus on her assignment, before she finally hit the save function on her computer and stood up to stretch. She was home alone – her parents had taken advantage of the afternoon to head out and get some shopping for Christmas done. She was thankful for their absence, as they had been their usual selves over the last few days – hovering, staying silent all the while asking _all_ the questions at the same time with their eyes. They were worried, concerned and wanted to protect her. She understood and even more so appreciated it. But she needed to do this for her own self.

She made her way out of her bedroom, the silence in the room was deafening and for once she enjoyed it. Even Samson seemed to realize she wanted to be alone and only looked up from his perch in the living room once she had made her way down the stairs. Her stomach rumbled, and as she walked she remembered her mother mentioning that she had left her some chicken salad she had made earlier. She hadn't realized how much time had past as she sat upstairs staring at the computer. She grabbed her salad and a bottle of water before she moved over to the island and sat down on a stool to start eating. Samson traipsed into the kitchen at that moment and Harper smiled as the old puppy came to stand beside her. He nudged the side of her thigh when he caught wind of her food.

"Sorry pup, too hungry," she whispered as she shoveled another forkful of the salad into her mouth. She swallowed to take a sip of the water she had grabbed. "Fine," she chuckled before she picked up a piece of chicken and tossed it to the dog.

* * *

Finn paced. He paced back and forth as he stood in his living room, staring at the phone in his hand. He kept staring at the phone, the Facebook app on his phone open to the page of the young girl who had sent him the simple message.

 ** _Hello_**.

The word bounced around in his head, floated around in front of his eyes. Simultaneously he couldn't take his eyes off the message and wanted to close and delete the app. He flipped out of the messages part of the app and drew himself back to her profile. He could only see so much, and found himself staring at the picture that she had chosen – and he couldn't help but try to find himself in her features. He felt himself pulled in; the smile on her face made a smile come to his own– and he couldn't help but notice the dimple in her cheek that he knew if he looked in the mirror would be the mirror of his own. She had deep brown eyes that were eerily familiar, an image he had long buried in the depths of his memories.

Quickly he closed down the app, and tossed his phone on the couch with such force that it bounced back on the pillows. He had been battling all day as he flipped back and forth between apps and watching television. Sunday was the only day he closed his shop down so he could have a day to decompress. But he still managed some days to go in and complete paperwork, tidy up – anything to keep himself busy.  
Only today he had stayed home.

He had been struggling with what to do about the message, what to respond with from the moment he had seen it. He made his way back into the kitchen and stared at the empties that littered the counter around his sink. He wasn't proud of himself, but the amber liquid that was continued in the bottles in front of him was the only way he had been able to deal with the emotions he was feeling inside. It was the only way to bury them deep, even if his subconscious kept driving him back to looking at the message and he profile. Instead of picking up the empties to put them out for recycling tomorrow, Finn stalked over to the refrigerator and swung open the door. He reached into the nearly empty fridge, another chore he had neglected today in favor of the wallowing in deliberation, and grabbed another beer. He popped the lid off the glass bottle and tossed it in the sink before he could decide if he had reached his limit or not.

* * *

It was nearing midnight when Harper finally completed all her work. She sighed tiredly as she rubbed her eyes as she finally packed everything away to bring to school tomorrow. She still had to shower and get through her nightly routine and she was very tempted to just skip it and go to bed. The thought of having to blow drying her long wavy brown hair caused her to grimace but the stiffness in her joints from sitting all day and the falls she had taken in her volleyball game earlier gave her pause and she decided to shower anyway and deal with the hair repercussions in the morning. The warm water she was sure would do wonders and help her sleep, at least that's what she hoped. She would be quick, because she was sure her parents who had long retreated to their bedroom for the night would hear the squeaking of the pipes and be concerned about why she was showering so late.

She let the warm water do its trick, and by the time she got back to her bedroom with her hair piled high in a topknot she was more than ready for bed. She slinked across the bedroom from her bathroom to her bed and slipped beneath the comfortable down comforter her Mom had bought for her a few weeks ago. She sighed deeply as she sunk into the fabrics, glad to finally be resting in the safe cocoon of her bed and putting the day firmly behind her. She hoped that school would provide her with the distraction she would need to not think about the limb she had gone out on.

The moment she turned out her bedside light, Samson came trotting in to take up his position in her bed as he did every night. Harper moved around to get comfortable as the bigger pup got on the bed and took up the space she had left him by turning onto her side to face her night stand. She sighed deeply when she was finally in position and tried to close her eyes to fall asleep. As she laid there, the questions and anxieties she had about the message she had left for Finn seemed to explode to the forefront now that she didn't have school work or even the hot water of her shower to distract her. She grunted in frustration as she rubbed her eyes, and groaned when she realized she had just pushed her facial moisturizer into her eyes and in no time they started to water. Harper deeply sighed as she tried to flip over onto her back to wipe her eyes more freely. Samson whined a bit. She envied the dogs ability to fall asleep so quickly. "Sorry pup," she mumbled tiredly. She leaned over for her tissues that she kept on her bedside table and in the darkness of the room she haphazardly knocked her phone to the floor.

"Crap," she sighed. Now she had to get out of bed to grab it. She slid out from underneath the covers and grabbed her phone, and just as she did so the screen lit up from her pressing the home button.

 ** _Finn Hudson sent you a message._**

Her heart thundered in her ears and she sat down on the edge of her mattress. She looked to her bedroom door and thought briefly about going to get her parents, but dropped the idea as quickly as it came upon her. Harper continued to stare down at the phone, her hands shaking as she contemplated whether to open the message now or wait for morning. Her mind was tired from homework, but the weight of what if pressed down on her mind, clouding her better judgement as she clicked the alert. One shaky breath after another left her mouth rapidly, matching the beat of her heart that was rapidly increasing as she waited for his words to fill the screen.

 ** _Hi._**

That was it. One word. She felt all of her emotions skid to a halt, skittering into the proverbial wall she had set up for herself against disappointment as she read his one syllable return. Was that it? All he could muster? She didn't know what she had been expecting, there was no book on his – no road map of how to reconnect with your birth parents. Well, there was…but they all prefaced their articles and chapters that it is all based on the individual and not every meet up is the exact same. But still, she had waited two days for _hi?_ The crushing wave of disappointment filled her as she stared at the screen. Her exhaustion over came her and she attempted to put the phone back down on her bedside table, all at once deciding maybe she should let him linger with the same feelings she had had the past two days being left on 'seen'. The three dots signalling that he was typing a message popped up and she yanked the phone with a vengeance and threw herself back on her bed to wait, not caring about the fact that the adapter had come out of the wall.

A million thoughts skipped through her mind. What if he was about to tell her to leave him alone? What if he was about to tell her there was no way he was her birth father? Every thought flipped like someone was fanning the edges of a book, every what if changing as the seconds clipped by at warp speed.

Harper waited with baited breath for his response to come through. Every time she felt her eyes drifting closed, she forced them open in order not to miss whatever message he was constructing on the other end. She could only pray it was more than the greeting she received moments ago.

When the message didn't come and the three telling dots disappeared without a message, Harper's patience wore thin.

 ** _That's all you're going to say?_** She typed furiously on the keyboard of her phone. She stumbled over her words and had to backtrack a few times to get her question out correctly. **_Just hi? Do you realize how hard that was for me, to send that message to you? – H._** Harper pressed send before she could add anything else. She tossed the phone beside her and Samson whined when it skidded to a halt on his tail.  
Almost immediately and before the screen could go dark, the dots reappeared.

 ** _I'm sorry._** The message lit up her screen and she waited with baited breath once the dots reappeared.  
 ** _I didn't mean to disappoint you. My name is Finn Hudson and I'm 39 years old. I'm a mechanic in Cottage Grove, Oregon. I doubt you've ever heard of it – not many people have, we're kind of small. I've lived here for 18 years. It's peaceful, and Huck likes when we go for walks and hikes. He's my pup. He's pretty old, but still runs like when I first got him. He was the third biggest purchase I ever made in my entire life. I own the garage I work in, I like it a lot cause I get to make my own hours. Though I work most days, all day its nice to be done when I want to be done. I've always liked working with my hands, working on a project that has a beginning, middle and end._**

Harper chuckled softly as she read over his message.  
 _"He rambles,"_ she thought quietly. " _just like I do when I'm nervous."  
_  
 ** _Ramble much? LOL. – Harper._**

 ** _I'm sorry. It's kind of instinct. All through high school my friends used to say I had verbal diarrhea. It gets bad when I'm nervous. And it pains me to admit that this – makes me nervous.  
You found me, though – first. Someone must have told you my name. I've always hoped you would find me, in one way or another.  
I never knew yours. Your parents picked a really pretty name for you. You look like a Harper. It suits you. – Finn_**

Harper let a long breath escape her as she read his message. 

**_Thank you. I like it. I used to wish I had a regular name when I was younger but after 18 years you get used to it.  
Finn, you're my birth father, right?_**

Harper waited with baited breath for his response, but as she watched the three dots dance on Finn's side of the screen, her eyes grew heavy with sleep the longer she waited. She didn't know why she asked him bluntly like that. She knew he was, the name matched the one Carole gave her. She wanted to read it, she wanted to hear him say it. She had come this far to be turned down or let down.

 ** _Yes._** Finn wrote. **_At least, I think so. You just had a birthday, right? November 10_** ** _th_** ** _?  
_**

Her heart felt like it was going to beat out of her chest and her hands started to sweat profusely around the iPhone in her hands.

 ** _Yes._** She typed, but silently mouthed the words she was typing as she went. **_My 18_** ** _th_** ** _. That's how I was able to start searching for you._**

Finn sat back against the couch as he stared at the screen. His head started to spin as he read the words back, his heart thumping against his chest.

 ** _I've been looking for you, because I've wondered for a long time now where I came from. I know who raised me; my parents have been good to me. I've had the best kind of life, they've raised me with morals and a good head on my shoulders. I play volleyball and have a part time job during the summer months. I've been playing the guitar for quite a few years and I'm pretty good. I can't dance to save my life, but I can carry a little bit of tune. No show tunes though, those are a bit out of my range. I'm more an Alanis/Kelly Clarkson kind of mix._**

 _ **But I have so many questions too. I know everything about my parents, Scott and Diane. I know what makes them tick, what makes them the people that I have loved all of my life. But I know nothing about my past. I don't know where I get my looks from, I don't know anything about who I am down in my genes.**_

 _ **Can you answer them for me?**_

The weight of the words Harper ended her message with hit Finn heavily. He put the phone down beside him and rubbed his face, the exhaustion that suddenly crushed down on him even from the lack of activity felt more extreme as his emotions scaled higher. He struggled against the weight of what the she was asking him to do.

 ** _I don't mean right now._** Harper felt like she had to clarify the last statement immediately. She had pushed send before she had been ready with the question, and even before she had fully committed to what she was asking. She was being blunt and to the point, and she didn't recognize herself in the haze of the late hour. **_I just – I have a lot of things I want to know._** She waited and could almost hear the crickets she imagined were playing.

 ** _I'm sure you have a lot of questions._** He affirmed. He paused his typing for a moment as he tried to determine how to succinctly put what he was trying to say. **_And I can't say that I would have the answers to all of them, but what I do know I can share with you, absolutely. But shouldn't you be sleeping?_** He added the last bit with a smile on his face.

 ** _Haha._** Harper quickly wrote back. **_I'm 18, remember?_** She made sure to add a wink emoticon at the end to show she was laughing, just as she hoped he was as well.

 ** _Trust me._** Finn answered back quickly. **_I remember._**


	11. Chapter 11

Hola! My sincerest apologies that this update has taken so long. Life has been a whirlwind over the past two months, and just trying to find the few quiet moments to sit down and write interrupted have been few and far between. But alas, I'm back now with a new chapter and its a doozy! I think you will all enjoy it immensely.

Anyways, I hope you guys like it. Any and all mistakes are mine of course and the idea of the story belongs to me as well. Finn, Rachel and any other 'Lima' graduates belong to Ryan Murphy et. al. Harper and any other originals belong to me.

* * *

 **Chapter 11**

When he realized that she had taken his advice and gone to bed, Finn sat back against the worn material of his comfortable couch. He finally allowed himself to release the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding for the whole, albeit short, conversation. Huck looked up from his spot by the small fireplace, a low growl slipped from his lips before he put his head down again. Finn paid him no mind, as he scrolled through the messages that had gone back and forth between the two of them in the last hour. The conversation came easy once the ice had been broken between them. He hadn't really meant to leave her hanging for so long but he had just been so taken aback at first. He hadn't been expecting to receive a message from her that quickly, or at all for that matter. The letter he had received from the adoption agency had only given him a slight heads up.

He hadn't expected her to find him this way.

He flipped back to her profile and found himself glancing at her photo once more. He felt his skin prickle as he looked at the picture once more. He was drawn in just as he had been before, but there was something different now. He felt himself searching her features, searching for any indication that she looked like him, just like last night. The obvious stuck out now – the dimple in her cheek most specifically. But he kept being drawn back to her eyes.

Harper had _her_ eyes.

The hair on the back of his neck stood up as a chill ran through his arms and down to his fingers.

Finn had only had a moment to see the baby, _Harper,_ when she was born. He hadn't been able to take a good look at her, something that both him and Rachel; well, Rachel had decided was for the best. He really had had no say in the matter at all. Rachel had spent the entire pregnancy telling him the plan, what they were going to do and why it was the best for both of them.

And like a fool, Finn had followed her lead.

He had believed, without a shadow of a doubt at that moment, that she had both of their best interests at heart.

He had never been more wrong, in his entire life.

He gave his head a shake before he stood up from the couch. It was getting later as he sat contemplating everything that had happened in the past hours. The buzz from the beer he had consumed had long worn off thanks to his large frame and high tolerance for the drink.

But he felt like his mind was going a mile a minute as he stood to his feet and brought his last beer bottle to the sink. He poured the remainder of the now warm amber liquid down the drain and left the bottle along with it's partners on the counter. He stretched his body and turned to leave the room, switching off the light as he went.

But try as he might, he continued to be plagued with thoughts long after he had slipped into bed. His thoughts travelled at light speed despite the exhaustion he was starting to feel drip into his bones. The what if's and hows started to hijack his thoughts, the questions he really hadn't given himself enough time to notice.  
What if this wasn't her? – what if Harper, wasn't his daughter after all, and he was just in turn trying to find things in her picture that connected this mysterious teen to his biggest regret?  
How had she figured out his name? He didn't need the letter from the adoption agency to tell him that his personal information was closed for the public to find. They had learned, despite already wanting to do so, that closed adoptions were law in the state of New York.  
In the end, it had been beyond their control, beyond his control even more so.

Finn rubbed his face after he finally put the phone down on the side table beside his bed. But even though he was tired, sleep alluded him, even in the dark. He stared up at the ceiling longer than he cared to admit. There was something comforting about laying in the dark. The dark didn't scream questions that were answerless and didn't require him to _know_ things with certainty. Instead it allowed him to just be.

She had found him. Whoever she was. He felt it in his heart that she was his, the daughter he had never forgotten, the daughter that he had never wanted to give up in the first place.

* * *

Going to work was hard, the next day. He felt like he was just going through the motions as he arrived at the garage. He didn't have anything pressing on his agenda, though at first glance at the red number on his old-school answering machine blinked incessantly at him. He was sure with the somewhat-surprise snow that had landed, most of the messages were clients panicking about snow tires and fluid changes or some other crazy request that wasn't necessarily weather related. Finn took his time getting to the machine, choosing to take a second to set down his coffee that he had picked up on the way from the one Dunkin Donuts that was on route, instead of bringing his own mix from home. The coffee was terrible, tasted burnt and wasn't close to being flavoured in the way he had requested. He had half a mind to spit out the vile liquid, but he needed the caffeine that he could only hope were somewhere in the dark liquid.

The jingling on the phone on the desk startled him from his thoughts, but it was almost welcome against the bitter taste of his mis-poured drink.

 **"** Hudson's Auto," he sighed into the phone. **  
**  
"Oh thank goodness you're open! I thought with all the snow you wouldn't have made it in," the voice of one of his older clients, Rosie Robins crackled through the phone. Finn tried hard not to roll his eyes. Despite the snow that had fallen steadily, a tolerable amount had only accumulated on the ground threw the early morning hours. His childhood in Ohio and young adulthood in New York had compiled more snow in moments than he woke up to this morning.  
 **  
**"Of course I'm open Mrs. Robins, how can I help you this morning?" he asked as he picked up a pen that was littering the desktop. He grimaced as the older woman detailed what she urgently thought she was going to need to get her through the winter. He furrowed his brow as he listened to her, writing notes quickly before he was able to hang up with her – not before promising to see her in an hour to change out her tires and top up her fluids.

Every message on the machine was exactly the same. By the time he had listened to all of the messages, some frantic, some more blasé about the whole snow has fallen debacle, Finn felt like he had a monstrous headache. He had a busy day of him, his scheduled scratched out on the pad he kept on his desk. All tires. All fluids. Not a decent challenge in sight. Perfect for the way he was feeling, he supposed. Tires and fluids were easy for the most part, and routine. It would be mind numbing but he could only hope it went smoothly. He didn't have the patience for much more than what was on dock so far.

* * *

By the time lunch rolled around, Finn felt like he needed a break. The monotony that he had anticipated from his day had not allowed for his mind to concentrate more on the tasks at hand, rather than his thoughts. The phone had been ringing off the hook, in a way that hadn't happened in a long time. The town wasn't that big, but his client list encompassed most of the town – something he would boast about if he wasn't so distracted. Between cars he had to take calls and the constant distractions led to him only getting through a handful of tire changes and less  
fluid top ups than he could count on one hand. He had thought ahead and instructed his morning customers to come by after lunch for their vehicles and by the time he lowered the last morning appointment he was glad he had allowed himself the buffer to recollect himself. He sunk into the chair in his office and chucked off the gloves he had been wearing that offered him more grip when he needed it. They also helped keep out some of the bite that had rolled into the air of the bays – he was too cheap for heaters out there and on days like today he really regretted his choices.

He fiddled with his phone as the silence of the room seeped into his bones. The garage reverberated even the smallest of noises, and he often kept his office as quiet as possible. Other times he enjoyed the radio playing in the background, on the fancy satellite radio thing Kurt had given him for Christmas one year.

Harper hadn't messaged him. He tried not to put too much thought into it, and as quickly as the thought came to him he reminded himself that he hadn't messaged her either. Finn discarded his phone on the desktop in front of him. He felt squirrely. Now without the distraction (or lack there of) of the methodical replacement of tires, he was left to his own devices once more and he felt like he was going to crawl out of his own skin.

His own mind seemed to launch into overdrive in the silence and he was startled when his cell phone jangled from the desk in front of him. Finn sat up straight and grabbed for the vibrating phone in time to pick it up and see he was getting a call from his step-brother, Kurt.

He stopped himself. Kurt rarely called him. Texted, sure – emailed, absolutely – photos of his two nephews and two nieces, all adopted from overseas and surely thought he was something of an urban legend that only sent money and books or toys he thought looked good on Amazon. He stayed at arms length. It was better for everyone this way, and by everyone – he meant himself primarily.

Against every warning sign that was triggering in his body, not to answer the phone call in question – Finn pushed the green 'answer' button just in time to catch Kurt about to hang up.

"Hello?" he hesitantly answered the phone. He could hear busy street noises in the background, and for a brief moment Finn wondered if the call hadn't been meant for him in the first place. "Kurt? Is everything okay?"

"Finn!" Kurt's voice blasted through the other end as it got louder. "Hi!" his voice got higher over the phone and the noise in the background disappeared as he assumed Kurt stepped out of way.

"Hi Kurt," he repeated. "Is everything okay?' he leaned back in the creaky old chair.

"Everything's fine, everything's great. Everyone's fine too, thanks for asking."

Finn rolled his eyes at the usual snark that met his ears. "You know that was going to be next question," he sighed as he distinctly heard the opening and closing of a door. He wondered if Kurt was at work.

Finn heard a loud sigh to go along with the slight click of the door shutting securely. He waited another beat and was about to speak when Kurt beat him to it.

"We haven't talked in awhile," Kurt started. "I just wanted to check up on you."

"This could have been an email then, Kurt," he sighed.

"That's not the same, and you know it," Kurt paused. It was easier to keep Kurt at arms length. Emails and texts kept the emotions at bay.

Finn and Kurt had become step-brothers later in their childhoods. At first, it had been a hard adjustment, not just for Finn but for Kurt as well – going from being an only child to having a brother. They were only a few months apart in age, Finn only a few months older than the smaller man. But as the years had gone by, Finn and Kurt had grown close, much to their parent's collective relief. Him and Kurt had bonded over their love of music, though very different genres but none the less a shared love of the subject had tightened the brothers and helped them bond.

"I'm fine, Kurt," he sighed deeply into the phone. He leaned back on his chair, the material squeaking under his body weight. "I have a busy day. We got snow last night."

He heard Kurt chuckle a bit on the other side of the phone. "We've gotten so much snow. The kids are loving it."

"Any snow days?" he asked absentmindedly. The kids in Cottage Grove got a delayed start for the day due to the minimal snow fall.

"None, much to their dismay," Kurt chuckled. "We don't live that far from the school so we've insisted they go. Even though they plead a good case sometimes," he chuckled. "Listen, I did actually have a reason for calling – we've decided to take a vacation between Christmas and New Years…."

"I'm not coming Kurt," he sighed, interrupting the stream of thought from his brother. It was the same every year. They took vacations often and while they invited him almost each time, he always declined. It was almost always a set up. Kurt, and in turn Blaine were desperate to have the family back together. Finn preferred the life he lived, away from the mistakes he had made in his life. He liked being alone, life was simpler this way. It was uncomplicated.

"But we're going to go to Disney, Finn. The kids are dying to go. Remember when we went," Kurt trailed off.

"We were 18," he chuckled a little. "It was a different time then," he stood up from his chair and went to look out the window that looked out onto the parking lot of his small shop. More snow had fallen and Finn internally wrestled with himself that he would have to go out and shovel a bit before more fell.

"Only Blaine's parents are coming," he tried. "Mom and Dad don't think they'll do well with all the walking," he sighed.

Finn's brow pinched. The mere mention of his mother in passing caused a seizing to occur in his stomach. He clammed up as the words hit his ears, and he waited in hopeful silence for Kurt to change the subject.

"They're getting older Finn," Kurt whispered.

"I'm not doing this Kurt, I'm going to hang up now," he sighed, a clip appearing in his voice. "I have to get back to work. Snow's falling." He ended the phone call without another word from his brother and tossed the phone back on the desk before it skittered across the surface and came to a stop against the wall. He pinched the bridge of his nose before standing up and going back towards the window.

It had been 18 years since he last saw his mother. Finn stood in front of the window and watched the snow slowly fall and land on the finished cars sitting outside in the parking lot. A lot of time had passed, a lot of things had happened in the time being, but Finn still felt the sting as if the confrontation had just happened yesterday.

He chose his life of isolation. He chose to run from the pain of every bad decision and mistake he had made in his lifetime. It didn't make things like a simple vacation easier. Except it wouldn't be that simple. He knew Kurt was trying to make things right, but it wasn't easy. It wasn't easy to just slip into his nieces and nephews lives when they were used to him being all but a figment of their imagination. There was hurt there too and had on the surface been the reason he abandoned all forms of social media without deleting the many accounts he had. Call him a glutton for punishment, but the idea of deleting all the memories didn't appeal to him very much. He also liked to think it would allow him to still be remembered, even if it was just by the people that didn't matter too much. He doubted many people remembered what his name was much these days.

It hurt to see everyone moving on with their lives. It hurt to see the pictures of weddings and babies and family vacations from everyone he had grown up with. Seeing Kurt and Blaine adopt their children, Quinn and Sam get married in Bermuda, Mercedes win a Grammy. Life went on without him, and it only encouraged him to retreat more. Every one of their successes magnified how he felt about every single one of his failures.

Finn shook his head and pushed the memories and thoughts away as a car pulled up into his parking lot. His next appointment had arrived.

* * *

Rachel rushed into the restaurant, her knitted cap pulled down low on her forehead both for warmth and to hide her identity. She clutched her thick pea coat around her until she was safely in the vestibule of her favourite restaurant. She allowed herself to unravel from her protective clothing, quickly enough that the snow flakes that had fallen to rest on the shoulders of the black coat shook off to the floor in a dance that mimicked the first fall.

"Rachel," the maitre'd smiled. "Dining alone tonight?"

She shook her head, her long dark hair that was loose down her back waving from side to side. "My fathers should be here," she raised a little on her toes so she could look beyond the short man in front of her to see if they had arrived. The dining room beyond them was full to the brim and it was hard for her to determine the location of anyone, especially not her fathers who in their old age had become frail and seemingly shrunken in stature.

"Oh yes, Mr. and Mr. Berry have arrived," he immediately nodded. "I believe Jacob showed them to your usual table, follow me…"

Rachel nodded and followed the older man through the maze of tables and happily satisfied patrons to find her fathers at their corner table which they always requested when they dined here, most times with her. She smiled as she approached them, they were deep in conversation it appeared, her older father, Hiram gesturing wildly to his captive audience, Leroy.

"Having fun without me?" she chuckled as she approached the table. The story Hiram was telling stopped abruptly on her approach.

"Song bird," Hiram smiled as he stood up. Leroy was a little slower with the action, due to hip replacements and bad arthritis in his knees. "It's so good to see you," he smiled brightly. She nodded as she embraced both the older men before gesturing for them to sit back down. It was always the same every time she saw them, which due to the proximity of their homes was quite frequent. But their Sardis date was a once a month tradition.

"You and Daddy beat me here," she smiled as she shrugged off her coat and slowly took off her cap to prevent too much static.

"Well you know your daddy," Hiram smiled. "He loves his prosciutto," he chuckled as she took her place. Leroy smiled fondly at her, and Rachel felt the blush of her father's attention creep up on her cheeks. She had always been the center of their attention, their entire world growing up – and even in her older age and with her Broadway fame, that had never changed. She couldn't possibly count on any of her extremities the number of times they had seen each of her productions. She could always feel when they were there. It gave her peace to know they were so proud of her.

"You look good sweetheart," he murmured so quietly that she could barely hear him over the den of the busy dining room.

"Thank you, Daddy," she smiled. Before she could say any more, the waiter appeared with a tray of drinks for them. It was very much like her fathers to order her drink for her if she arrived after them, and she wasn't disappointed when the waiter place a chilled glass of white wine in front of her setting, before placing their drinks down. She noted that neither of her fathers were partaking in alcohol tonight.

"No wine?" she smiled inquisitively as she took a sip of her drink. It was smooth and cool as it went down.

Both her fathers shook their heads in tandem. "You didn't have to order this for me then," she offered. The smiles on their faces told her they were just partaking in tradition.

A comfortable silence lulled over the trio, and Rachel took the moment to bask in it fully. She sat back in her chair, admiring the surroundings. Sardis was her favourite place to eat, and it wasn't because they proudly boasted her caricature that sat directly across from their table in perfect view, but because the atmosphere always brought a smile to her face even on her worst days.

"How was your show princess?" Hiram asked softly, breaking Rachel from her contemplation and drawing her back to the table.

"It was good," she nodded with a smile. "Nothing out of the ordinary happened," she offered.

"Packed house?"

"Isn't it always?" she joked. Both Hiram and Leroy laughed with her. Her success on Broadway had spawned several inside jokes between the three of them. It wasn't that she was cocky or egotistical, she just knew she was talented.

Rachel took another sip of her wine as both of her fathers perused the menu. She took a cue from them, even though she already knew what she was going to order. She always got the same dish, the Sardis Chop Salad but with a vinaigrette instead of the heavier Dijon mustard dressing it came with.

"I think I'm going to get the Spinach cannelloni tonight," Hiram smiled as he closed the menu and placed it in front of him. Rachel placed hers down as well and folded her hands neatly.

"No steak tartar?" she inquired with a smile.

Hiram shook his head. "Doctor said I should limit the amount of red meat, clogs the arteries."

Rachel nodded. She had been trying for a few years to limit her Father's meat. She herself had gone from true veganism to vegetarian over the years, but her Father's had enjoyed many a meat dish over the years. As they got older, she often wondered what it would take for them to limit their intake if they hadn't taken her advice over the years.

"Only what I've been telling you for years," she commented as she grabbed for her glass of wine.

"Oh princess, you know how stubborn the old man is," Leroy chuckled as he appeared from behind his own menu. "I think I'm going to get the marinated chicken skewers, change things up."

"Speak for yourself about who's old here," Hiram chuckled. Rachel rolled her eyes playfully. They were 2 months apart in age, Leroy the older of the two.

"I love you guys," she chuckled as the waiter appeared to take their orders.

"We love you too princess," they both echoed at the same time.

* * *

Rachel loved spending time with her fathers. Even when she was younger she loved having sing along nights and special dinner theatre parties. She had a wonderful childhood that was full of spectacular memories. As their meal wound down, Rachel found herself getting tired. Show days were long, and she was thankful that her fathers were willing to meet with her afterwards for meals, but the long hours wore on her. She wasn't young and spry anymore, and the long days made her wish for a warm bath and her bed more than others.

She stood up once the waiter brought the cheque and she successfully lost against her father's strong arming her to pay the amount owed. She watched her Dad place a few bills on the paper before standing up himself.

"I almost forgot princess," Leroy murmured as he slowly rose from his seat. She noticed him reach into the pocket of his sport jacket.

"Daddy," she laughed. Sometimes her Daddy would ply her with little trinkets, or mints after a dinner. Sometimes, he even tried to slip some money into the palm of her hand – even though she was a successful star on Broadway.

"No, no sweetheart," he shook his head and pulled out a plain white envelope. "This came addressed to you the other day," he sighed as he held it out to her.

"Came registered and everything. Your Daddy and I thought it was our fruit of the month refund," he shook his head and what was left of his grey hair shifted with the movements.

"I still don't understand how you guys got them to refund you on perfectly good fruit," she chuckled as she took the envelope from him. She wasn't sure what to make of the envelope, but it's light weight and lack of return address on the front did nothing to bother her. Mail that belonged to her continually ended up at her father's. Her own address was unlisted, too many episodes of Criminal Minds and scary stories from her fellow actors on Broadway had scared her enough to keep herself and her living quarters as private as possible.

"Your Dad is a good negotiator," Leroy chuckled with a shrug. "And we don't like pears."

She shook her head a little and stuffed the envelope in her purse without a second thought. "You two," she chuckled.

"You love us," Hiram smiled as he took Leroy's arm. "We'll see you next week?" he inquired as he leaned in a little and placed a kiss on her cheek.

"Of course," she nodded her head. "But I'll come over, okay? It's getting pretty cold out there," she offered as she walked with them towards the exit of the restaurant. "I'll even bring some banana bread. Give me an excuse to bake," she winked as she leaned in to place a quick kiss on her dad's cheek.

"Song bird," Hiram protested but she leveled a look towards both of her Fathers that meant business. She was aware of her fathers rapid aging, and as much as she loved visiting their favourite restaurants there as nothing wrong with hanging out at home too. She loved their condo. It wasn't Ohio, but it had become the same safe space she had had there.

"Alright, you win this round," Leroy joked tiredly. He kissed her cheek as they all left the restaurant, all of them hailing cabs to head home.

* * *

The condo was dark save for a light in her spacious living room that spilled over into her entryway. She tossed her bag onto the bench beside her door but took more care with hanging up her coat on the hooks above. She yawned in exhaustion and leaned down to grab for her bag to dig out her iPhone to plug it in before it completely died on her. When she blindly reached in, her hand encountered the envelope she had shoved in her bag not even an hour earlier. She held it up to inspect the white paper envelope for a moment before diving back in to grab her phone. Her bag was packed with essentials she needed to get through her day and it took a moment to get the object. When she finally found it, she took both items and headed directly to her bedroom, her memory taking her through the condo while she kept it dark.

Rachel tossed both items onto her bed, startling Cosette who had curled up on the end of her queen-sized mattress. "Sorry," she murmured with another yawn before she turned to the bathroom to start her nightly routine.

But she barely made it into the attached bathroom before she turned back around. The ominous envelope called to her loudly, and she felt herself drawn to figuring out what it was. She sighed in defeat and shut off the light in the bathroom before heading back to bed. She kept facial wipes in her bedside night stand and talked herself mentally into believing that would be enough for tonight. She quickly changed from the black dress pants and peasant top she wore to dinner to a comfortable pair of flannel pajama pants and a long-sleeved shirt before she allowed herself to be drawn back to the letter. Her curiosity peaked, and she was almost sure it was her exhaustion that was working her up so much. It was probably something menial and she almost pushed herself out of bed in resolve to fully complete her routine.

She carefully ripped open the envelope before she could talk herself up anymore and her eyes widened when she read the letterhead.

 _Sunnybrook Adoption Agency - 249 E 92nd Street, New York City._

Her heart pounded so loudly, she could hear it in her ears. She even checked in on Cosette quickly, shooting her eyes up over the paper to make sure the cat couldn't hear her heartbeat. She couldn't. Cosette remained unbothered.  
 _  
Dear Ms. Berry,  
I am writing to inform you that we have received notification that the child which you gave up for adoption on November 10th 2015 has reached out for information about her parentage. As per New York State law, the information to which the child requests is under seal. In addition, at the time it was requested that the adoption proceed under the faculties of a closed adoption. Because the child is 18, by law we are required to leave this information with you. Due to the nature of a closed adoption, no information will be shared without your consent._

 _If you have any questions or require further information or direction about opening a closed adoption, please contact our offices at (212) 123-4567, ex. 101._

 _Regards,_  
 _Neil Johnstone_  
 _Director of Adoption Records_

Rachel suddenly felt like a rock had fallen into the pit of her stomach. She gasped loudly and clutched the paper to her, effectively crumbling it under the clasp of her fingers. Her breath caught in her throat as she clasped the piece of paper to her.

 _Rachel's hands shook as she signed her name on the dotted line. She couldn't be certain that the shake was an aftershock of the intense work her body had just done, or if it was from nerves she had long locked away. The papers looked so final, her eyes glazing over as she read them. She bit down on her lip hard, not that she needed more discomfort at the moment – but it was a movement that anchored her down to the moment in front of her.  
She was giving up her daughter. The little 7 pounds, 2 ounce bundle that she had carried with her for the last 9 months, had already been whisked off for her first bath, footprints and she assumed, to meet her adoptive parents._

 _She had barely been allowed to see her. She had heard her though, her lungs strong and loud as she protested the sudden change of scenery. She closed her eyes tightly as the representative from the adoption agency slipped the papers from her grasp and wordlessly left the room._  
 _And all at once, she was all alone._

A silent gasp left her lips as the realities hit her. The implications of what the letter meant took her over. She was looking for her. Her little girl was out there and wondering who she was or where she was. She leaned back against the pillows that lined the head of her bed and tried to keep herself under control. She closed her eyes as tears rose under her lids, dotting her lashes.

Rachel had buried the memories; buried everything about that day in November 2015, and the 9 months that had come before it. She had always believed giving her little girl up for adoption was the best choice for her. She had believed it wholeheartedly – because she hadn't been in a place to raise a child.

But now, now she was in a place where most aspects of her life were more secure. She had her career, she had both of her fathers and had a stable life. Sure, she didn't have a husband and hadn't had any other children, but her life was more solid.

She sat up and wiped the tears that had started to trickle down her cheeks in the moments that had passed. Who was she kidding? Her life was anything but stable. She couldn't even say if she was truly happy or not. Her job made her happy, spending time with her fathers made her happy – but other than that there was nothing else. She didn't have many friends aside from other members of the cast, even if she rarely saw them outside of performance days and rehearsals.

Her life was empty.

But now all she could do … was wait.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12  
  
** It was incredibly difficult for Harper to keep secret her conversation with Finn at school the next day. She felt like her insides were going to burst from the elation over having found and contacting one of her birth parents. She felt like her brain might explode with all the questions she had for him. Throughout the school day, she tried to preoccupy herself with menial tasks, tried to keep a lid on her emotions. But the day wore on and on and she hardly knew what any of her classes had covered

Harper knew she couldn't tell anyone. As much as she wanted to share the secret with her best friend Cora, she couldn't run the risk of her parents finding out. Her parents were well connected and very active in their community, so the possibility of someone spilling the beans was real. Her parents even considered some of the faculty at the high school to be close friends. No, Harper thought to herself, she wouldn't risk it.

Harper wasn't even sure how she was going to break the news to her parents. They had been weird the last few days, with the news of her finding Carole, her paternal Grandmother. They were still supporting her in the way they always did, and had attended her volleyball game on Sunday morning, and continued with their usual Starbucks and had even offered to take her out for brunch instead. She declined the brunch, which surprised all three of them. They were getting close to Christmas holidays and she needed all the time she could get to get ahead of assignments or complete them before school went on break until the new year. She had seen the disappointed looks in their eyes behind their tight smiles, but she kept up the front as best as she could.

Harper pulled her car into the driveway and waited with a shiver as the door to the double car garage rose. Her high school wasn't too far away, so the car barely had time to warm up to any acceptable temperature before she arrived home.

"Come on," she muttered under her breath as she waited for the garage door to roll up. A loud huff blew from her mouth when it finally lifted, and she drove forward. She got out of the car quickly, determined to get into the warmth of her home. Harper slipped off her Uggs as soon as she was inside the house, and immediately slipped on her warm fuzzy black slippers. Her parents kept the house warm, but her feet naturally ran cold even with socks. The silence of the house enveloped her, and for a moment she was appreciative that she always got home before her parents. She ventured into the kitchen once she had stripped herself of her coat and dropped it on the bench by the door. Her stomach rumbled with hunger, and she wasn't disappointed to find a tray of gingerbread and sugar cookies laying on the island. She grabbed one and could immediately taste that they weren't her Mom's recipe—they were a little dry and not nearly as tasty. She grabbed herself a glass of milk as Samson trotted in.

"Hey boy," she smiled. "Awe, Mom put your Christmas collar on you." She put the milk on the counter and knelt to his height. "Who's a handsome boy, huh?" she said scratching behind his ears. Samson closed his eyes and growled in appreciation of the attention.

"I was hoping we could put the tree up tonight," Diane's voice carried into the room as she came upstairs from the basement.

Harper jumped when she heard her.

"Jeez Mom, I thought I was home alone. You startled me half to death."

Diane chuckled as she put the box of Christmas decorations she was carrying on the floor. She brushed the dust off her shirt and walked over to where Harper was now standing. "Weren't you listening this morning when I said I was only working until 2 today?"

"I guess I missed that part when I was making my smoothie," she sighed sitting on the stool. "Where did the cookies come from?" she asked grabbing another, this time a gingerbread and dunked it in her milk before taking a bite.

"Nancy at the office brought them in," she smiled. "She made everyone some for the holidays. She's going on a cruise so today was her last day until the New Year."

Harper nodded. "I hate to say it but they taste store bought," she chuckled.

Diane playfully swatted at Harper as she walked by to get a drink from the refrigerator.

"Be nice," she laughed.

"What, is Nancy down in the basement too?"

"That's enough out of you," Diane chuckled. "So what do you think, got time to help decorate the tree tonight?"  
Harper smiled thoughtfully as she chewed on the last bite of the cookie.

"I think I can do that. After dinner?" Harper asked.

"I think that sounds good," Diane nodded. "Dad texted and said he'd be running late because of a meeting. So it'll only be us tonight for dinner. What are you feeling? I could do a stir fry? And we could load it with the mushrooms your Dad hates so much…" Diane chuckled.

"Can we top it with a lot of water chestnuts?" Harper countered with an arch to her brow.

The familiar ding of her cell phone interrupted their banter. The ding took her by surprised.

"Go check your phone," Diane said motioning Harper to her jacket. "I know you're itching to."

Harper nodded, and easily slid off the stool, trying to remain calm as she left the kitchen. The second she knew she was out of Diane's line of sight, she picked up the pace to get her phone.

Harper was anxious knowing there was a great possibility the message alert was from Finn. She tried not to set her expectations too high though. After all, the alert could have been from anyone, really. She hastily touched the screen to bring it to life. Immediately the alert from Facebook messenger came alive on the screen and her anxiety took over.  
 _  
"How was school?"_

A quiet chuckle slipped from her lips reading the three simple words. _"How was school?"_

The anxiety slipped away as she read the words a few times as she made her way to the couch. She had wanted to hear from him, but the simplicity in his message made her giggle softly. She had heard the same words a million times from her parents – but to have Finn ask? It was almost like a dream.  
 ** _  
"It was fine, busy but fine, thank you," Harper texted back._**

 _"_ _Just fine?"_ His response came almost immediately, and it resurfaced the same giggle as a moment ago.

"What's so funny in here?" Diane poked her head around the corner before venturing out of the kitchen. She stood in the small walkway between the two rooms with a tilt to her head but a smile on her lips. Harper almost threw the phone, caught off guard by her mom's voice and words.

"Nothing, nothing," she stuttered, her words falling out of her mouth faster than she realized. "It's Cora."

Diane chuckled. It usually was Cora.

"Well, tell her I say hi," she smiled as she crossed the room and headed for the stairs. Harper eyed her mother from where she was, flopped on the couch and she didn't go back to her phone until she was fully out of sight.

 ** _"_** ** _Okay, it was brutal,"_** she typed. **_"Days before holidays are always long, full of assignments and test prep. It sucks."  
_** _  
"I'm sorry_ **."** he wrote back. _"Those days weren't fun, from what I remember. Or what I remember of them."_

Harper sent Finn an LOL in response. She sat back and waited for him to write something else while keeping an eye on the stairs. It wasn't that her Mom would come and read over her shoulder, she wasn't that kind of mom. Harper just wasn't ready for her parents to know.  
 ** _  
"Did you have a good day at work?"_** she knew the question was kind of vague. She was at a loss of what to say, she'd never been good at small talk and often stumbled over her words in new situations. Using messenger and text messages was helpful when she could use them, but this situation was so…different. Finn was her birth father. Hers. She would never get tired of reminding herself of the fact.  
 _  
"I'm still at work actually. Time difference, remember?"_

Right, she thought, he told her he lived in Oregon, a considerable drive and a different time zone from suburban New York City.

 _"_ _Been a long day already. We got a bit of snow – just a few inches that wasn't expected, and the work keeps piling up. People are freaking out."_

Harper chuckled again.

 ** _"_** ** _I love snow. I used to love building snowmen on snow days and my dad would make these awesome forts with me that would last for days!"_**

She waited a few beats for him to respond, but when he didn't she tossed the phone on the pillow beside her and tried not to over think her last message – and the silence. Harper leaned her head back against the pillow and stared up at the ceiling as Samson trotted in. She sat up and gently scratched between his ears.

"That feel good?" she whispered. He raised his paw when she stopped scratching and Harper laughed.

"Wanna go for a walk?" Samson barked happily before running to the door.

"Wait for me!" she said getting off the couch and walking after the old pup. "You need your coat, silly!"

Samson barked in return running to the door with impatience. Harper couldn't help but laugh as she approached the pup at the door.

"Don't be long," Diane called from the top of the stairs. "It's cold and I'm going to get started on dinner soon so we can decorate when your dad gets home."

Harper playfully rolled her eyes, staring back at her mother while she shoving her feet into boots.

"Just a quick lap, right Sam?"

The dog whined as if he knew what she was implying. There was no such thing as quick laps for the two of them when they got going. Harper's phone beeped from her pocket just as she shrugged off her coat.

"Well, at least I know your phone still works," Diane said heading back to what she was doing upstairs.

Harper hooked Samson's leash to his collar and the two headed outside.

* * *

Harper had a special place in her heart for the holidays. There was something about the season that just made her heart warm. She loved taking Samson for long walks with the snow crunching under her boots, loved the way her house smelled as her mom baked and the smell of their tree; her mom was big on using scented candles to make the house smell like a real fir tree, since her Dad was highly allergic to the sap from the real thing. She loved being with her family and giving gifts. As she left school and pushed her way through the throngs of students to get to her car, she couldn't help but feel grateful that she now had her birth father in the mix, even if it had only been for just about a week.

And what a week it had been.

They talked every day. Sure, it resulted in a lot of lost sleep in the last few days but to Harper it was worth it. She had come to know when the best time was to send him a message, and in return Finn seemed to have nailed down her school schedule along with the time change to get her at the right time. She had learned, in the short snips of conversation, that his favourite colour was red and that just like her, he had a pup. Huck was his name. That made her smile. He was a dog person, she liked that. It gave her a sense of connection to Finn – something she was longing for.

Harper got to her car quickly and rubbed her hands together before she got in. She and Cora were going to go to the mall to find some gifts for their parents. She had shopped already for her cousin Alannah, the name she drew in the secret Santa they were doing between the 10 of them – but she had yet to find anything for either of her parents. And she wondered, for a moment if she should be getting something for Finn as well. She stopped herself there. He had been in her life for a week. She shouldn't be getting this far ahead of herself, though the thought of being able to buy something for her birth father for Christmas made her smile.

"It is way too cold out here," Cora announced as she sunk into the passenger seat.

Harper chuckled as she eyed her best friend.

"Sorry, did I interrupt something?" Cora asked. Harper rolled her eyes playfully as she reached to crank the heat.

"I literally got here 10 seconds before you, what could I possibly have been up to that you would interrupt?"

"I don't know, gosh," Cora laughed. "You just have been attached to your phone, that's all."

"Why are you acting like a boyfriend right now?" Harper asked as she started backing out of the parking space.

Cora screwed up her face before she laughed loudly.

"Let's get our shop on," she exclaimed said reaching to change the radio channel to blast some Christmas music.

"I have so much to buy still," Harper groaned as they got on the road. "I have no idea what to get my Dad, he's literally the hardest person to buy for because he just buys whatever he needs. And I'm still going back and forth about buying something for Finn."

She didn't catch herself at first, but she felt Cora's eyes on her when they came to a stop light.

"Whose Finn?" she asked rather innocently.

Harper felt she couldn't hold it in any longer. She needed to tell someone.

"He's my birth father. I found him."

"What?!" Cora exclaimed.

Harper winced at the loud volume, it was probably for the best that they were stopped at a light.

"And you didn't tell me? Harper!" she shouted as she gently pushed against her shoulder with her gloved covered hand. "Tell me everything!"

Harper smiled. "I found him online but listen, you can't breathe a word to anyone else, alright?"

Cora gave her a sideways look just as the light turned green. Harper took a deep breath as she hit the gas before going more into detail.

"My parents don't know I've talked to him," she spoke softly. "They know I know his name but nothing further."

"How?" Cora asked.

"Facebook. I found him on Facebook and I sent him a message a week ago. We've been talking for a few days now."

Harper continued: "I found my paternal grandmother through an adoptive family registry and things just spiralled from there."

She turned her full attention to the road as Cora digested the information. The mall was only a few minutes away but with the holiday shopping traffic, the roads were busy.

"So, why are you keeping this from your parents?" she questioned. Cora had been around the Richards family for years, and she had always envied how close the three of them were.

"They're not exactly thrilled about how I've gone about this," Harper sighed, "They say they're on board and want to help, but I know this must be killing them."

Cora pursed her lips but remained quiet as Harper continued the drive.

"It's not like they had no idea you were adopted or who they adopted you from," Cora chuckled as Harper pulled into the mall parking lot.

They were immediately met with throngs of cars jostling for the very few spaces that remained, Harper drove up and down the laneways.

"That's besides the point and you know it," she replied. "And they never knew WHO my birth parents were; closed adoption, remember? They knew nothing…thus, facebook."

She moved the car forward when she saw a minivan slowly pulling out ahead of them.

"Yes!" she exclaimed, skillfully driving the car into the space as a large SUV hiding on the opposite side honked in frustration.

"Gotta move faster buddy!" Harper said, putting the car into park.  
Cora rolled her eyes.

"I forgot you have an insane competitive streak for just a split second there," she laughed. "But for real, do you think keeping this from your parents is a good idea? I mean, they're going to find out somehow any way and wouldn't it be nice to have them on your side? Not that they're not," she trailed off.

Harper sighed. She regretted letting her birth father's name slip in that moment. She knew Cora wasn't going to let it go. Normally it was what she loved most about her fiery and energetic best friend, but not in this situation.

"I just don't want to hurt them."

"Well, don't you think you should have thought of that before you went all Annaliese Keating?" Cora asked getting out of the car.

They had parked far from the main entrance of the mall, and Cora immediately pulled the hood of her jacket over her head. Harper mirrored her movements and pulled her own hat down over her ears. She hated hats, but it was cold.

"You were up late last night binging on Netflix again, weren't you?" Harper asked Cora trying to change the subject.

"We're not talking about me. We're talking about you and your secret birth father issue," she countered.

Harper blew out a breath. "I shouldn't have said anything. Just don't tell anyone I told you. I'll tell them when they need to know."

"Like when your application essay is due?" Cora pointed out.

Harper stopped mid step and pulled her hat further down her head as she stared at Cora. She was in a constant battle with herself about the essay. The deadline was closing in on her, stomping closer as the days passed. She still didn't feel like she had the answers to the big questions that she wanted – who was her birth mother? Why did they give her up? Why didn't they fight to stay in her life? She knew about the law, but she also knew from many posts on many different websites that there were ways around it. But that had never been offered to her. And she could only think the reason why had something to do with her birth parents not wanting her.

"You know, maybe shopping wasn't the best idea," she murmured as all her thoughts crushed over her like waves.

"Harper," Cora sighed. She knew instantly she had hit a nerve. "I'm sorry. I was just trying to be realistic."

"Well, thanks for the dose of reality. Think you can get a ride home?" she asked briskly, slumping her way back to the driver's side of her car.

"Harper. Come on, let's go get a hot chocolate and start over," Cora tried.

"I don't really feel like shopping anymore," she whispered. "Should probably go home and ponder why my birth parents never wanted me some more."

"Harper, that's not fair. I never said that at all…"

"Your face said all I needed to know," she said. "Come on, I'll drive you home if you want. I just…I can't go shopping right now."

Cora nodded and silently walked over to the car and slid into the passenger seat. "I'm sorry, Harper."

Harper gave a faint smile. In the calm of the moment, sitting in the car she was brought back down to earth.

"No, I'm sorry. I lost my temper and I shouldn't have."

"It's kind of your thing," Cora chuckled. "But I shouldn't have pushed you. You'll tell your parents when you're ready, I know you. And I'll be right behind you in any way you need me to be."

Harper nodded: "But you're right. It's a lot to hold onto all the time and it's only been a week! What am I doing?"

"Hell if I know!" Cora answered.

Harper reached over and smacked her shoulder without looking.

"Hey!"

* * *

Harper was exhausted by the time she pulled her car into the garage. After her blow out with Cora in the parking lot and subsequent resolution, they had gone in to the mall after all. She had knocked only a few people off her list; her dad remained elusive to her. When they had called it a day with their trip, she was resigned to ask her mom for some ideas when she had a moment alone with her.

Harper took a moment to take a deep breath once she had turned off the car. She hadn't meant to tell Cora about Finn – and the resulting conversation had left her feeling less than stable about the whole situation. It had been a week and she had already built up so many fantasies about what it would be like to have Finn in her life for good.

She had gotten ahead of herself.

An incoming message flashed on her phone screen from the cupholder. She breathed with a modicum of relief when she saw it was Finn, checking in with her and letting her know he was closing up for dinner and had time to chat.

Harper reached for the phone and quickly typed out an answer before finally finding the energy to get out of the car, leaving the gifts she purchased behind in the trunk for safe keeping. She would get them later when her Mom wasn't home. Harper managed to find several little trinkets and things she knew her mother would appreciate. But her Dad? She still had no idea what to get him, nothing jumped out at her as they walked through the mall.

Walking into the house, Harper heard raucous laughter coming from the living room. She smiled a little; her parents loved entertaining and quite often would have impromptu dinners with their friends. She quickly ran through her memories of the brief conversations she had with both of her parents before she left for school, but nothing came to mind. She skirted around the living room, trying to be quiet as she made her way to the kitchen.

"Harp? Is that you sweetheart?" her mom's voice stopped her in her tracks and she angled her body so she was peaking into the living room.

"It's me," she pasted a smile on her face when she saw that her parents best friends, Olivia and Miguel were with them, the source of the laughter evident from her Mom's ruddy cheeks. The four of them were a riot together and she couldn't help but allow the smile to slip from pasted on to genuine.

"Hi Mr. and Mrs. Spencer," Harper smiled with a wave.

"Well, hello Harper," they both smiled.

"Why don't you join us?" Olivia asked invitingly. "We brought plenty of charcuterie."

"And wine, your mother has already had lots of wine," her Dad joked as her mother lovingly hit him.

Harper looked down at her watch. "You guys look like you're having much more fun without me. But remember, it is only after 6pm," she chuckled as she backed out of the doorway and headed for the kitchen as she had planned.

Only a few moments had passed before Harper heard the distinct sounds of the adults in the other room standing and gathering their things to leave. She tried to ignore the movements and pushed down the idea that her comment was the reason they were leaving. She had no idea how long they had been over, and as she rooted through the fridge to make herself a quick salad, she heard the Spencers shout their goodbyes before they headed out the door.

Harper hummed as she put together a mixed salad before she took it over to the island to and Cora had just grabbed frosted hot chocolates from Starbucks, forgoing dinner since neither was hungry. Now, however, she was famished. She dug into her salad as her parents walked into the room, carrying all the left overs from their visit.

"They ran off pretty quick," she noted as she scooped a forkful of salad into her mouth and chewed.

"They had to get to Sammy's hockey game," Scott said. "Slow down, you're going to choke."

Harper swallowed but rolled her eyes all the same.

"He's applying to Yale too, you know," Diane added corking the wine before placing it back on the stand. "I think she said he's applying for Physics?"

"Well, if Yale is good enough for Sammy, then it's got to be good for me too, right?" she smirked before she shoveling another forkful of salad in her mouth. She was only half serious. She and Sammy were the same age and had been competitive to a fault as young children. They began Junior Kindergarten together. and it became apparent very early on that he loved anything with numbers. She just didn't.

Both her parents laughed almost in unison.

"No one ever said Yale wasn't good enough for you, sweetheart," Scott said as he started rinsing out the wine glasses. "Speaking of Yale though, we should look into a tour when the holidays are over."

"Maybe we can road trip like old times?" Harper asked, as she finished off her salad.

"I think that's a great idea," Scott replied.

"What about Mom?" Diane laughed. "You want more salad sweetheart? Did you and Cora not eat at the mall?"

Harper shook her head. "Just hot chocolate."

"Let me make you a sandwich then, with all this leftover stuff," she waved her hand over the plate the Spencers left behind.

"Mom," she whined. She didn't really want anything else.

"Don't argue with your mother," Scott said walking behind her and kissed her head. "I have some things to do in the office for a bit, movie later?"

Both Diane and Harper nodded.

Harper sat silently picking at the few stray pieces of salad still in her bowl. Her mother bustled around the kitchen making her the sandwich she didn't really want. It was easier to go along with what she was doing, especially when it came to food. Her mother's love language was always food and she wasn't going to lie, she did make pretty awesome sandwiches.

"You got quiet quickly," Diane noted as she put the sandwich on a plate.

Harper shrugged, pushing her salad bowl away from herself.

"Did something happen at the mall?" Diane asked, placing the sandwich in front of Harper.

Harper didn't know how to answer that because answering would let loose the secret she had been so desperate to keep from her parents.

"Harper?" Diane gently prodded leaning on the counter.

Harper grabbed the sandwich and took a bite. Maybe she was hungrier than she thought.

Diane stood up. Harper knew her mother like the back of her hand, and she knew her silence was doing little to calm whatever thoughts her mother was having in that moment.

"Is it good?" her mother asked quietly loading the dishwasher.

"It's great Mom."

Diane mashed her lips in a fine line, as she emptied the sink of dishes into the dish washer so she could run it later.

Harper felt like her Mom wasn't going to leave her alone. Her mother was a worrier, and especially so when she felt something wasn't quite right. Another trait that made it harder to keep her conversations with Finn a secret.

"Dee?" Scott's voice broke through both of their thoughts. His footsteps followed his voice and he stopped in the doorway of the kitchen, a piece of paper in his hands.

"I just got an email from Dan and…" he stopped short as he took in the atmosphere of the kitchen.

Her Dad had had 18 years of practice deciphering silences in the house, and Harper didn't need to look up to meet his eyes to know he could feel the thick cloud of uncertainty that surrounded she and her Mom.

"Whoa, what's happening in here?" he questioned.

Harper looked up in time to see her mother shoot her father a look and she herself knew from 18 years of deciphering looks that she was trying to tell him there was something wrong with her.

But there wasn't something wrong. She was perfectly okay. Well, mostly okay. She would be more okay if she had more answers from Finn but she knew that was to come or at least she hoped.

"Nothing Dad," she broke her silence as she finished her sandwich.

Her mother's sigh was loud enough that the neighbours could hear it clearly.

"Mom," Harper said, getting up from the table to take her plate to the sink. Instead of letting her mother take it from her, she avoided Diane's reach and rinsed it before placing it in the dishwasher in the way she knew her mother preferred.

"You can tell us, you know," Scott interjected. "Whatever it is. If you spent too much money at the mall, or if you dented the car…you can tell us.".

Harper let a slow chuckle leave her lips.

"You think I dented the car?" she laughed softly as her phone beeped. She turned to grab her phone from the counter but her Dad moved quicker and grabbed the phone that was face down on the surface.

"Hey!" Harper complained.

"You've been too attached to this," Scott said.

Harper sighed once more, and placed her elbow on the counter. She leaned her head in the palm of her hands and stared at her parents with as much of a look of indifference as she could muster in the moment. As the seconds ticked by, she felt like her resolve was breaking down. They were on to her, and it would be easiest to just let it slip, tell her parents all about her birth father.

"You're keeping something from us, Harp," her Mom whispered lowly, a crack to her voice. The phone beeped again and she perked up.

"What is so important right now?" Scott asked.

He flipped her phone around in his hand, his fingers grazing the screen so much that it lit up. Harper swallowed, instantly worried that he would see the messages she was sure were from Finn. It was the right time.

"Fine, I'll tell you," she whispered. "Can I have my phone back please?"

Scott handed her the phone and took a seat at the head of the island.

With her phone back in her possession, Harper placed it on the counter in front of her screen side up. Harper touched it gently, bringing the screen to life for a moment as she peaked at it. It had, in fact, been Finn messaging her.

She took a deep breath as she flipped the phone back over, screen side down before she raised her eyes to look at both of her parents.

"I've been talking to Finn, my birth father," she said firmly. "I found him."


	13. Chapter 13

Hey-O! My apologies that it's been so long. Life has been crazy. But here we are! 

* * *

**Chapter 13  
** Harper hadn't expected the slack jawed reactions she was receiving from her parents. Neither said anything at first, though her mother opened and closed her mouth several times, and Harper could tell she was trying to figure out what to say.

"What?" Scott's voice broke through the silence that deafened around them first.

"I've been talking to Finn," her voice came out weaker than it had been moments before when she made the declaration. Her parents reaction did a number on her confidence.

"Yes, I caught that," her father tiredly admitted. "But Harper..." his voice faltered off before he could say anything further. She saw a look pass between her parents.

"He's my birth father," she asserted.

The look intensified between her parents.

"How can you be sure of that?" Scott's voice became stronger in that moment. "Where did you find him? How do you know Harper?"

He ended his inquiry with a little flourish of his hands, something Harper knew from experience meant he was really getting worked up.

She took a moment to collect herself. She looked towards her mother for support, but Diane's lips were mashed together in disappointment. Harper felt she had to clear the air, give them the information they were ordering her to reveal.

"Facebook," she admitted, her voice dripping with defeat.

Scott scoffed. "Are you actually telling me you found him on Facebook? There could be dozens of men on there with the same name."

"You're wrong," Harper interrupted. "There's only one. I found him. My birth father. And this," her hands flittered around to gesture to their varying facial expressions. "This is exactly why I didn't tell you right away. You told me you were with me. And now I don't feel it at all!"

She threw her stool back, the feet scrapping against the floor. She stood up in a hurry, the stool fell backwards with a loud thump.

"Harper," her father said sternly.

"Dad," she grunted as she crossed her arms over her chest.

Diane looked between the two of them and her eyes watered. Her mother had always been emotional and Harper felt her guard dropping for just a moment.

"He could be anyone, Harper! Anyone could say 'yes I'm your father' on the internet, you're too trusting!" Scott drilled.

Harper sucked in a breath. "He knows things. He knows where I was born, the date and time."

"Things that can easily be accessed once he knew your full name which you handed to him on Facebook," Scott retorted.

Harper huffed. That hadn't crossed her mind. She had the paper proof of her birth announcements amongst all of her birth memorabilia – she only called it that because her parents were obsessive and there was A LOT of documentation about her birth, except her birth parents names of course.

"Carole gave me his name."

"And you believe her? Believe she's your actual grandmother?" Scott asked, his tone incredulous.

Diane continued to gaze between them. She didn't know where to place herself. She wanted to believe her daughter, but her heart was also breaking at the thought that Harper had found her birth father. She also hadn't realized the amount of doubt and skepticism Scott carried in his heart about all this.

"The registry said…."

"That registry," Scott scoffed. "That registry was a stupid idea. How much did that cost us anyway?'

Harper felt her anger flood in like a wave. Tears burned in the corners of her eyes as Scott ranted.

"You said you were okay with this," she whispered, defeat dripping from every syllable as she listened to his words. "You said you would stand behind me and help me with this."

Scott ran his fingers through his thinning, salt and pepper hair. She could sense his anger dissipating, but she stayed on guard. They had only had two or three blow out disagreements that she could remember in her entire life, but this was quickly becoming the newest installment.

"I said that before I thought you would find anything. And you so blindly believe the first name or person you find could be what you're looking for."

Her disappointment dripped from his words, and she sensed a finality to his opinion.

Harper deflated. His words stung.

"Scott," Diane started. Harper felt a flush of relief as her mother found her voice. "Honey," but the relief that flooded in quickly soon rushed away when her mother's words puttered away with a lick of her lips.

"Not now, Diane," he spat. Her phone dinged, and before Harper could lunge for the small object on the counter, Scott snatched it up. His brief thumb touch to the screen brought it to life once more, the message notifications littering the screen were all from Finn. This was their usual chat time, and Harper felt herself grow anxious. She had set her phone so all that could be seen at first glance was who the message was from, rather than how it had detailed the first few lines previously.

"Four messages," Scott scoffed. "He asked you for money yet?'

Harper's eyes widened. She knew her father was a skeptic when it came to online relationships and friendships but given that they had had 18 years to adjust to the idea that this may happen one day – his total ignorance threw her for a loop. Her mother's own eyes widened to reflect the words he had said in a matter of second.

"I'm not going to answer that," Harper grew stronger as each word left her mouth. She stood to her feet and took a step closer to her father who still held her phone tightly in his hand. "He's my birth father," she implored. "And you know what I've learned? That he's clumsy, like me," she paused to let the words she was saying sink in. "He broke a girls' nose in high school from tripping over his feet. He can't dance, but he can sing. Well, maybe that's something we don't have in common but I sure as hell can't dance," she joked. "He lives in Oregon, and he owns his own auto mechanics shop," she screwed up her nose a bit, she wasn't one to necessarily get down and dirty. "We have the same colour hair, or had I guess. His is sprinkled with grey at the temples. It's also straight, where mine's wavy," she pondered out loud.

Scott cleared his throat and put the phone down on the surface of the island again. "Open the messages please."

As his request hit her ears, her own jaw went slack this time. "Excuse me?"

Her parents had always trusted her with social media. Their only rule had been they had to be her friend on every platform, so they could keep an eye on what she posted. Not that she had ever given them a reason to be concerned. She wasn't like other girls she knew from school, posting topless photos or pretending to smoke to look cool.

"Scott," Diane's voice interjected once more. "Harper, why don't you to your room? Get some comfy clothes and we'll watch Rudolph or Home Alone in a bit." It was Harper's turn to mash her lips in to a fine line, in another time her father would have joked about how much she looked like her Mother. But this time the line was never delivered. She wondered what her Dad was even thinking in that moment, as the phone dinged once more.

"Is he always this persistent?"

When Harper didn't answer him in seconds, Scott thrust the phone at her once more. "Unlock it or tell me the password please. And then do as your mother asked you to."

Her eyes travelled over to her Mother for a moment, but Diane had busied herself with putting away the plate she had used for her sandwich, effectively taking herself out of the conversation and actions completely.

Harper sighed deeply, before placing her thumb over the home button. She didn't know what her Dad was going to do, but she silently prayed that he wouldn't scare Finn off. "The password's my birthday, with just the last two digits of my birth year." And with that, she turned on her heel to leave the room. And neither of her parents stopped her.

Diane put the cloth she had picked up to distract herself down as she turned to look at Scott. He was staring menacingly down at the small phone in his hand.

"Are you happy now?" she mumbled.

Scott refused to turn his eyes away from the phone, causing Diane to huff loudly. "Scott!" At her exclamation, he looked away from the phone and more directly at her. "Are you happy now?" she repeated.

"Oh cut it out Diane," he scoffed as he put the phone down but kept it face up. "You can't tell me this is all fine with you. He could be a human trafficker or a pimp…" he stumbled through his words.

Diane all but rolled her eyes at her husband of 25 years. "Or he could actually be her birth father?" she remarked.

It was Scott's turn to huff at her statement. "How are you so calm about this?"

Diane shrugged. "There's no use getting upset over it, I suppose. It's not like she came home and told us she was pregnant or doing drugs. She found, who she thinks, is her birth father. And that is what she has wanted, from my understanding, for a while now. She hasn't said it, but she wouldn't be so invested in something so quickly if it wasn't something she didn't want."

Scott pulled out the stool he had abandoned in favour of touring over his only daughter minutes ago. "I don't like it."

"You should have said something earlier, Scott," Diane's voice inflected when his name crossed her lips. She pursed them together to stare at him fiercely. Yes, it was scary as hell. She doubted every second since Harper presented them with the idea that this was even close to being a good idea.

"When I was supposed to do that, exactly?" he questioned. "From where I stand, this whole thing has moved pretty fast since you let her sign up for that registry." He stopped. "She was supposed to be ours, you know? Forever. The law was protecting us from just this on purpose."

"And people, like her, created loop holes so they could find the information they wanted. This isn't a bad thing Scott. Wouldn't you want to know, if you were in her shoes? We've always told her she's special to us, that she's adopted but I don't fault her for wanting to know more about her DNA and I guess that's why I'm okay with this," she admitted. "No Birth Father or Paternal grandparent is going to change that. We're her parents, we raised her. We changed her stinky diapers and soothed her rashes and sunburns."

Scott sighed, but nodded all the same. "I still don't like the idea of her talking to this guy."

Diane nodded. "We have to trust her a little bit too, Scott."

He picked up the phone and quickly tried to type in the passcode.

"What are you doing?" Diane sighed.

"Making sure he's not a pimp," Scott chuckled as he walked away from Diane and headed for his office.

* * *

Finn tried to distract himself with work after he sent off the last message to Harper. He had a pile of paper work that needed to be filed but he lacked motivation at the menial task. Times like these he often wondered if he should hire someone to deal with it, though more often pride took over when he thought about how he had been able to keep his small business afloat all on his lonesome all these years.  
He rubbed his face. The paper work served to distract him for only a second before he pushed the chair back from his desk. The afternoon was slow enough, and he felt his concern about the lack of response from Harper growing by the second. He felt foolish, because there really wasn't a tangible reason for him to be worried. Sometimes it took awhile for her to respond, but his subconscious was nagging him and it wasn't quitting. He moved through the small office, dragging his fingers along filing cabinets and other things along the way, before venturing over to the window. It wasn't too late, but he drew the blinds anyway. If he was going to waste time, he didn't want the small neighbourhood to be aware that he wasn't as productive as he made himself seem on the outside.

He almost tripped over himself when he heard his phone buzz, and he had to stretch to grab the phone off the desk in an insane effort not to miss the message. Finn grabbed the phone and all at once felt relief when he saw the message was from Harper. He quickly leaned against the desk and hastily opened it.  
 ** _  
Who is this?_** His heart sunk when he read the words. What did that mean? The beating of his heart thundered loudly as he tried to calm himself.  
 _  
Harper, it's me. Finn._ He typed furiously and had to retype his own name several times to get it right.  
 ** _  
Who are you, Finn?_**

He dropped into the chair he had abandoned moments ago and felt his shoulders drop. He felt dreams vanish quickly, the ones he had held on to for the past 18 years.  
 _  
Harper...it's me._ The words felt pathetic the moment he left his finger tips. He had only known her for such a short time. He hadn't had long with her, and now he felt like she was falling away from him.  
 ** _  
This is Harper's father, Scott. What do you want with my daughter?_**

Finn felt his jaw tighten. He knew she had parents. She had talked about this, told him about her childhood in brief snippets but he never imagined this is how he would meet with the man who had raised the daughter he had wanted so badly.

"Fuck," he murmured. He saw the three little dots appear that indicated he, err, Scott, was writing something and he held his breath a little as he wanted for whatever it was the man wanted to get off his chest. The dots disappeared for a moment, and Finn felt himself relax until they appeared again.  
 ** _  
Again, I ask. What do you want with my daughter?  
_** _  
Harper is my daughter. My biological daughter._

The words felt strange and foreign to him . He hadn't told anyone except Samson, though the old pup really didn't have an opinion either way.  
 ** _  
How do you know that?_**

The answer to his statement came faster than he anticipated. Finn didn't know how to answer.

 ** _Exactly. You can't tell me you know for sure. This is the internet, Finn. If that's even your real name.  
_**  
Finn put the phone down on the desk in front of him. He rubbed his eyes again, putting pressure to try and relieve the thundering in his temples that was escalating as the second hand ticked by. His heart beat loudly when the phone buzzed again, but he didn't move quickly to grab it. He felt defeated by the last few messages and it was causing an ever-growing amount of doubt to start in the back of his mind. It was just all so fast and he almost berated himself for getting so attached and so worked up as fast as he had.  
 ** _  
I'm sorry._** Once he looked at the message, he was taken aback by what he read. **_That was rude. You just have to understand Harper is my world. And she has been from the moment she was brought to us in the hospital. She's my little girl, and if you are trying to take advantage of her…_**

The message trailed off at that moment, and for a second Finn could feel a lump start in his throat. The words from the voice on the other side struck home. This man, Scott was it?, had the privilege of raising his daughter for the last 18 years. This man had gotten to do everything he had ever wanted to do, had been able to be there for her first steps, first cold, first dates and everything in between.  
 _  
I'm not._ Those were the only words he could think to say. He didn't know how to convince this man otherwise. The more he tried to formulate the words, the more anxiety he felt until his fear came to a head. He could possibly lose Harper over this texting exchange.

Finn typed furiously: _She contacted me, just so you know.  
_  
He waited with baited breath for Scott to return fire. His hands began to sweat as he held the device in his hand, as the dots disappeared and reappeared in a continual loop.  
 ** _  
And? Do you make a habit of friending teenaged girls on facebook, Finn?_**

He sucked in a breath. The words stung. He tried to quickly collect himself. He wasn't that guy. Thoughts flooded his mind, ways to get out of the conversation – shut it down. But he didn't act quickly, because if Harper was in fact who he thought she was, he didn't want to lose her over a protective father.  
 ** _  
My daughter is a bright young woman. But she is also very gullible. She has always been like that, quick to give out her trust. So if you're not who you've told her you are – please leave her be. She doesn't need the hurt._**  
 _  
Scott, if I can call you that – I wholeheartedly hope and without a doubt believe that your daughter is my biological daughter. I had a baby girl on November 10_ _th_ _, the same date she confirmed was her birthday. At the same hospital she's told me she was born at.  
_ _ **  
Anyone could have that information.  
**_ _  
But I KNOW it! I mean I was there. Like I said, she found me. So obviously she was looking for me. If this is a problem, I'll step away. But she found me on here. She had my name. She wants to know me.  
_

* * *

Scott put the phone down. He was no further ahead than he was when Harper first told them. He felt torn, because he didn't know what to do exactly. This was the internet. And the conversation hadn't gone as Scott hoped. The guy hadn't been the most forthcoming like he had hoped. He leaned back in the high backed computer chair, a gift from Diane and rested his hands behind his head. His office was littered with photos of the past 18 years, just as his office at work was as well. Each picture was a memory he treasured , his favourite from their first trip to Disney World when she was three and sobbing when Mickey offered her a sticker. She had been so worked up with excitement that when she saw him she just couldn't contain her emotions. Him and Diane had expected her to run into his arms; but instead they had gotten the opposite. The rest of the trip had been a blast though, and they had been back several times since.

When a knock sounded on the door, he didn't have to call out to know it was Diane. It could only be her, he was sure Harper would be happy not to see his face any time soon. The door opened before he had a chance to say anything out loud and he wasn't surprised to find he had been right.

"Well?" the clip to her voice told him all he needed to know about how much she appreciated what he had done.

Scott interlocked his fingers behind his head and stared at his wife.

"I talked to him. Or whoever it is she's been talking to."

Diane pursed her lips as she closed the door to the office behind her before crossing the room. Scott watched with rapt attention as she came to a stop in front of him and leaned on the mahogany desk in front of him. Diane gestured for him to continue, but Scott could only shrug.

"He didn't say much," he offered. "He's quiet. Whoever he is."

Diane kept the urge to roll her eyes to herself.

"So, he's quiet. He's like Harper that way then," she pointed out. Scott allowed the breath he had been holding since she came in to release.

He dropped his hands from behind his head and folded them in his lap instead.

"Why do you have to point that out?" he sighed as he turned to the iMac on his desk and booting it to life.

"My question is why I had to point it out in the first place. What are you doing?"

He turned his attention to the computer for a moment, ignoring her question. He kicked up a few websites and punched in a few words.

"Bingo," he uttered under his breath.

"What?"

He turned the screen to her.

"I'm making a side trip to Oregon," he said stoically before turning it back around so he could book tickets. 

* * *

Finn never closed early. He was one to always stay open late, make sure every single one of his customers was taken care of one way or another. If their vehicle was going to be in awhile he would make sure they were taken home safely, often on his own dime. But today was different. He had enough of being at the shop, and as soon as the last vehicle was picked up by their owner he turned off the open sign and dimmed the lights so only the emergency ones shone bright. He had gone shopping the evening before, and a case of cold Miller Light was awaiting him in the fridge along with a stack of microwavable dinners. He didn't even have it in him to hit the drive-through for food.

His conversations with Harper had been stilted, since his brief encounter with her adoptive father a few days ago. He didn't know what she knew, and he sure as hell didn't ask because he didn't really care. She nattered on about what she was doing as she was doing it, and while Finn enjoyed the sometimes-minute details of her day to day, part of him had the conversation clouded by the one she had had with Scott days prior. If she knew something had occurred, she did a really good job hiding it.

His phone had been silent for a bit now, but he didn't have to guess. Harper had relayed that one of her friends from her volleyball team was having an ugly sweater party – something else he knew all about because she had sent him photos of the monstrosity she had created for the occasion. He chuckled internally when he thought about the ugly bright red sweater doused in silver tinsel and gaudy baubles. The thought amused him so much, that he almost missed the dark SUV sitting outside his modest home.

Finn couldn't decipher if the SUV was running or not; under the cloak of darkness it was hard to tell and the little bulb lights he had strung around his home years ago did little to help. He squinted a little as he pulled into his snow-covered driveway, making sure he edged into the narrow space properly. He didn't take his eyes off the SUV. It was probably just a visitor for someone else on the street, but the absence of any other parked cars on the street didn't go unnoticed by him.

He got out of the truck after debating for several minutes whether he should turn around and go through a drive through after all for his dinner. But the thought that Huck had heard his tire tracks and knew he was coming won out, and he headed for the back door of his home that would lead directly into the kitchen.

Huck immediately came to greet him, confirming to Finn that he had heard him. "Hi old boy," he chuckled softly dropping his hat to the side as he crouched to scratch between his ears. Samson ducked his head to really get into the loving. Finn laughed, and for a moment he forgot about the SUV in front of his house.

"You ready to eat boy? Want to share a steak?" he laughed, knowing the steak they were about to have was probably as far from actual steak as he could get. Dog food probably would have been closer to the real thing.

Huck barked lightly and trotted further into the house.

"Guess scratch time is over," Finn laughed. He stood up right and walked further into the kitchen after he shook off his coat and threw it on the counter as he went, flicking the light switch as he went. Huck didn't follow, instead returning to his bed in the living room to wait for whatever part of Finn's dinner he would get. As soon as he opened the freezer, Finn immediately wished he had decided on something more substantial for dinner, as his stomach growled with hunger. He grabbed one of the microwaveable meals, and tossed it on the counter in favour of grabbing a beer before willing himself to stick the frozen meal in the microwave. The silence of the room suddenly descended over him; even the microwave was quiet and undisruptive. It was weird being home this early in the evening, and he wasn't sure what to do with himself as he waited for the meal to be finished. As the smell started to permeate the room, his stomach growled and he tried to convince himself that the meal would be better than pizza.

Just as the timer on the microwave beeped that it was done, a knock sounded on the thick door at the front of his house. Finn stilled for a moment after opening the microwave door and waited for the sound to happen again, just to be sure that he hadn't misheard. Seconds later, it happened again and the telltale clatter of Huck's nails against the wood floors told Finn he wasn't just hearing things. He put the beer down on the counter and followed the dog begrudgingly to the door to see who was there. Still dressed in his work clothes, he hoped whoever it was would be on their way after giving directions or letting them using his phone. It wasn't uncommon, their little town was quite a thoroughfare for travellers. Being the dead of winter, it hadn't happened in quite a long time.

Finn opened the door hastily, ready to offer directions to the nearest motel or gas station. What he wasn't expecting, was to find an older man on his front porch who had a stern look on his face.

"Finn Hudson?"

"That's me?" he was puzzled. The man in front of him did not look familiar to him.

"Scott Richards," the man stepped into the light on the porch a little more, causing Finn to take an intuitive step backwards.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

Despite his better judgment, Finn invited the older man into the house. He opened the heavy door wide so he could enter. He waited as Scott crossed the threshold of the house, and Finn immediately moved to distance himself much like he had only moments before. He wasn't sure what to think at the moment as he eyed him, the man much older looking than he had imagined by their exchange over Facebook. He stuck his hands in his pockets for something to do as Scott looked around. Finn suddenly felt on display, like his home and even he were being evaluated.

He stood to the side as Scott walked in, toeing off his shoes as he stepped further into the space that had solely been Finn's for so long. He didn't have many guests and having his daughter's adoptive father in the vicinity felt anything but normal for him. Finn closed the door behind him as he settled, and he watched with rapt attention as Scott continued to look around, before leading him to the small living room. He could see his eyes skimming every available surface, looking for what he was seeing. Finn kept his space sparse, some would say minimalist and the only photos of people he actually knew were the prerequisite school photos his brother sent him once a year. Nothing else. He lived in the present, the past by all means, was left just where it belonged.

"Can I get you something to drink?" Finn offered after a few terse moments between the two of them. The silence was getting to him, and he struggled to keep quiet.

"Must have been a long trip." Finn wanted to say more, but he bit his tongue to avoid any altercation with the man who could very well take away what he wanted most, a relationship with his daughter.

"It was long enough," Scott said, the words slipping tersely from Scott's his mouth.

Finn felt his shoulders slump as Scott broke the silence.

"But I would travel a million miles if it meant protecting my daughter."

The words twisted inside him, and Finn knew they were meant for maximum impact. It was clear, Scott didn't think he was good enough to be related to Harper or to be in her life.

"She's one in a million," Finn responded softly but the expression on Scott's face told him it wasn't what Scott wanted to hear. So, Finn changed tactics.

"How did you find me?"

Scott let out a chuckle. "You're a pretty easy guy to find when you have the right name."

The words were blunt. "Quick type of 'Finn Hudson', in google and bam…here I am. Small town Oregon."

"Does Harper know you're here?"

The question made Scott pause.

"That's not important," Scott stated, crossing his arms across his chest.

The man was much shorter than Finn was, but the man's presence made Finn feel miniscule.

"But if you must know, she's at home with her mother. Probably wrapping gifts or baking. They have a lot of traditions they like to follow around Christmas."

The words rolled off Scott's tongue quickly and Finn imagined that he was almost telling him off. Like he was proving he didn't belong in Harper's world.

"And where does she think you are right now? Aren't you part of those traditions?"

Finn didn't mean for his response to come out as snarky as it did, but he could already tell Scott wasn't here to make friends.

Finn saw a flicker in Scott's eyes as his questions steamrolled over them. Scott's arms crossed tighter across his chest, and Finn realized he was still wearing his coat.

"That's none of your business."

Finn sighed and scratched his head. "I'm going to get a beer. Do you want one?"

He missed the tight scoff as he left the older man in the living room, a move he wasn't sure was the best. He felt uneasy, he knew nothing of this man in the living room. He grabbed two beers quickly and headed back to the living room to find Scott still standing in the middle of the room, but his coat wasn't covering his torso and now hung on the back of Finn's old and tattered lazy boy Finn approached him and offered him one of the cold Steam Whistles. He hadn't waited for an answer, but when Scott took it eagerly from his grasp, he was assured the implied answer.

The same cloak of silence deafened around them as they popped off the beer caps and each took a swig, Finn's much longer than Scott's.

Scott took the moment to really study the scruffy man in front of him. Finn had plopped down on the overstuffed couch to the side of him, and the uneasiness seemed to just roll off the younger man. But as he sat there, Scott could finally see what Harper saw. He saw the familiar hair colour, though like Harper had reported, it was highlighted with grey at the temples. Scott took him in, looking for other semblances to Harper. Of course, they weren't easy to detect bearing the age and gender differences to start with. Finn also sat faced away from him in the moment, and he couldn't really study him.

Scott stopped his analysis when Finn finally put the beer bottle down on the table top in front of him. For the first time Scott noticed the dog stashed in the corner of the room as his head popped up. Had Harper mentioned him having a dog? Scott wracked his brain as Finn turned himself towards him.

"Does she know you're here?" Finn asked again, effectively breaking the silence. He wanted to know, it was eating him alive. He hadn't heard from her today and he needed to know if this was why.

Scott decided if he wanted answers from Finn, he was going to have to start being more open himself.

"No. She doesn't know I'm here. Diane and I told her I had a business meeting. I have lots of them, so she believed it."

"Three days before Christmas?" Finn raised an eyebrow as he sat back on the couch.

Scott shrugged. "It's not unlikely."

Finn shrugged and reached for his beer in the uncomfortable silence that followed.

"My turn for a question," Scott sighed.

Finn waited with baited breath, unsure of what question Scott would hit him with. He was even more unsure if he'd have an appropriate answer.

"Who are you?" Scott asked with some authority.

The question wasn't really what Finn expected, but one he should have seen coming nonetheless. He sat frozen, glued to his seat for what felt like endless moments as he tried to determine how to answer Scott's vague question. Scott cleared his throat as the quiet moments ticked by, and Finn instinctively sat up straighter, turning his body to look at Scott.

"I'm Finn Hudson," he cleared his own throat to by him a moment, but Scott continued to stare at him with an expression that implied he needed much more than what Finn had offered. "I've lived here, in Cottage Grove, for about 18 years now. I grew up in Lima, Ohio. I played football through middle and high school, and I was part of the glee club in the last three years of high school. I can't dance, but they thought I could carry a tune," he rambled, finding it easy to spew unimportant facts about his past to Scott, whose expression had not changed even a flinch. "I'm 39. I'll be 40 in May. Harper was born when I was just 21, and I wanted more than anything to raise her. But my girlfriend at the time, Harper's biological mother," the words tasted bitter and weird on his tongue.  
"She researched it. We weren't ready. I wasn't ready. She wasn't ready. So we found you guys," he gestured to Scott with his hands and his words died on his lips. Scott nodded quickly, and Finn knew the words had reached his ears.

Scott continued to stare at him, and Finn easily started to twitch under his glare. He reached for his beer and took a long swig as he glanced over to where Huck had hunkered down in his usual spot. Some guard dog he was; not that Scott was really a threat, Finn thought.

"Do you see her mother?" Scott's question was quick, biting. Finn flinched against the words.

Finn reached to place the beer bottle back down in front of him. "I haven't seen her in 18 years," he admitted truthfully.

Scott moved in the chair, causing it to groan under the movements as he adjusted his position in the old chair.

"Look, I don't know what you're trying to get at. I'll tell you whatever you want to know. I've answered every question Harper has asked me as truthfully as possible. She hasn't asked about her birth mother, but I can only imagine it's coming. I've always wanted to be in her life, I would never tell her this because I'm afraid it would hurt her – but I never wanted to give her up for adoption. But Ra – my girlfriend, had a particular way of making me believe in her ideas, and she was very convincing in her arguments that giving up our baby was the best thing for two 21-year-olds who barely had two pennies to rub together.

"She had dreams," he continued, "and a baby would stand in the way of her reaching her dreams. I regret it every single moment; letting her lead the way. But what's done is done, and for what its worth it sounds like you and your wife have raised her incredibly well, to be a strong, independent young woman. She is more amazing than I have ever imagined she would be and I know that's because she got to grow up with you and your wife as her parents.

"But," he was beginning to assert himself, "that doesn't mean I'm going to go away quietly. She found me. She obviously wants to know me and I will give her whatever she wants, information wise."

Finn stopped short, he didn't want to cross boundaries. His own emotions had run the gauntlet over the few days and weeks since Harper had contacted him. He was getting a clearer picture that maybe Scott was having a harder time adjusting to him being in their lives. He also sensed Scott didn't believe him.

"She's 18," Scott began. "And for those 18 years she has been mine and my wife, Diane's, entire world. Even before that. We longed for years to have a child, and when biology failed us, we looked to adopt. All of our dreams came true when you and her birth mom picked us to raise your child."

He reached for his beer to clear his throat.

"When we signed the papers, making Harper ours, we made a promise to her, whispered it in her little ear before we left the hospital. We promised her we would always love her, always protect her and always be there for her. So please, forgive me if I'm not exactly sure you stepping into her life so easily is a good idea at the moment."

"She is on the brink of the biggest change of her life; she is about to submit her application to Yale, which I'm sure she's told you about. It's her dream school. It's all she's talked about since she decided what she wanted to do with the rest of her life. She decided early, you know. I bet she hasn't told you that yet. She's a dreamer, and nothing stands in the way of what she wants."

Finn noted the look on his face was a little smug, and part of him wanted to get up and walk away.

"She told me about Yale," he responded. "And I would never stand in the way of her dreams. I only want to be another champion of them, clapping along in the sidelines beside you and Diane. I just want to know her- even if it's 18 years later than I ever wanted it to be."

* * *

Harper loved this day with her mom. In the days leading up to Christmas, they had their traditions and nothing stood in their way . Even the year Harper had broken her hand slipping on ice walking home from school. They spent hours in the kitchen, baking all sorts of treats from her mother's old recipe book her Nana had given her as a gift when her Mom and Dad married.

She had her favourites, she loved sugar cookies and shortbread, while her mom loved making butter tarts and peppermint fudge. It was always an all day affair, and most years her dad stayed out of the way except when it came to taste test. They had Christmas music blaring loudly and she had to laugh at her Mother trying to sing along with a cheesy version of Deck The Halls. She had fond memories of all the years they had done this, the menu never changing or the music – but her Mom had long since given up her apron.

There were enough pictures of a younger version of herself wearing frilly ones with her name embroidered across the chest. Her parents had loved everything embroidered those days.

"How are those cookies coming?" her mother smiled as she pulled out a tray of tarts.

Harper sat up and stretched, taking a moment to admire her handy work. "I think these may be some of my best work," she laughed lightly as she turned the sheet towards where Diane was standing.

"You say that every year," Diane chuckled. "But they are pretty cute. You really accentuated Rudolph's nose on that one."

"I wasn't going for that, the tip smudged," Harper laughed. "Want to help? Since you're finished the butter tarts?"

"Sure," Diane smiled softly. She wiped her hands on the cloth. "I think I made enough butter tarts that we can bring some with us to Nana's."

She pulled up a chair and sat across from Harper at the table. The entire table was covered in flour and bits of icing that was drying.

"Think they'll last once dad gets back?" Harper chuckled as she got to work decorating a sleigh. "When will he be back anyway?"

She grabbed the red tube of icing and started tracing around the edges.

"Tomorrow," Diane answered, grabbing a cookie to decorate. "He'll be back before lunch."

"Where did he go, anyway?" she inquired. "He's not just out shopping, is he? I thought we taught him enough about amazon to avoid any last-minute runs?" She chuckled at her own question as she quickly filled in the rest of the sleigh with red icing before grabbing a tree and dotting it.

"He had to nip over to New Jersey, one of his clients moved out there and they had an emergency."

Diane didn't look up from the intricate design she was creating on the star to answer the question.

Harper looked up from her own design and eyed her suspiciously. Yeah, her father had business trips sometimes. He was a partner in a financial planning firm that he and his best friend started themselves straight out of school. They expanded to a few different states as their company grew and through the years he had trips and sometimes flew out to meet with clients. But she didn't remember it ever being this close to Christmas. And an emergency so close to Christmas? She almost rolled her eyes but kept it to herself.

"He'll be home for Christmas, don't worry…" Diane smiled as she finished her cookie and placed it on the tray.

"I wasn't ever worried," she smiled herself.

She stood up when she realized the tray was full. "Is the oven still on?"

Diane swiftly nodded. "I even turned the temperature up slightly to be ready for the cookies." Harper nodded her understanding before she opened the oven to slide the cookies in. She took the moment to wipe her hands free of the cookie residue and grab her phone. It had been a quiet day, and the baking with her mother had kept her busy enough. And they still had to get to wrapping the gifts for her cousins and family.

"What's Cora up to today?" Diane asked absentmindedly.

"She and her family left for Florida," she answered just as absentmindedly.

She flipped her phone to Facebook messenger. The last message to Finn was hers, from last night. Nothing from today. She put the device down, disappointment flooding her for a moment before she righted herself. She shook it off, internally scolding herself because it wasn't rightfully placed. She hadn't messaged him either; focusing most on the time with her Mom. Something she was worried she would miss next year when she went to Yale.

 _If she got in._ She thought and as quickly as she thought it, she shook it off. She would get in. She just needed to write her essay and submit it.

She picked up her phone again. She quickly snapped a photo of the cookies in the oven and sent it over to Finn. Just so he knew she wasn't ignoring him.

"Want some?" she typed the caption quickly before sending it over.

"Hey, these others aren't going to decorate themselves," Diane laughed as a quirky version of Need A Little Christmas, came over the kitchen speakers.

"Oh I love this song," she laughed as she started to sing along.

"You love every song," Harper chuckled as she put her phone down and headed back to the table. Not before she started to sing along too

* * *

Rachel loved the holidays. She loved the spirit of the season that took over the city, as the flurries fell and decorations sprung in every window she passed by on her walks to and from the theatre. She liked to walk when she could, the cool air felt good against her skin and took her back to moments when she wasn't always so rushed around, trying to get to the theatre on time or to various functions she had to attend. Being a big name in the Broadway world was a lot of work, much more than she had ever anticipated but even after all this time she still enjoyed it. It was what she was born to do, and everything she had worked for had come to a culmination in the last few years as she secured successful role after successful role. Though nothing topped the doting looks that always came across her father's faces every time they saw her in her various productions – even if it was not the first showing they attended.  
They had done so much for her, and still continued to do as much as they could despite their advanced ages. Not that she needed much, beyond the scope of love and support they could only provide.

Rachel bustled her way down the street, her hands ensconced in the thick warm gloves she had stuffed on as soon as she saw the flurries coming down from her window above the street. She had a lot to accomplish today, before she had to be at the theatre for one of the final shows before Broadway went dark for the only few days it did so. She had a few more gifts to purchase, and a flurry of wrapping to do but she had already grabbed the necessities for that on one of her sprees on Amazon during a particular sleepless night. She had already sent out her Holiday cards a few weeks ago, thanks to her manager who had sent them out with her own. She was spending the holidays with her fathers as was their custom. A few days at their condo, not too far from her own, and then a few at a hotel that overlooked Times Square. She loved the atmosphere, all the people coming together in close quarters to celebrate the new year's arrival. In their younger years they had been amongst the throngs of spectators, but with declining health and ages that were rapidly increasing, the last few years had been spent taking in the spectacle from the balcony of rented rooms amongst the madness. There had been fewer years she had spent the night without them, below in the crowd with various lovers and boyfriends, but not this year. This year felt important.

Rachel pushed the thoughts of her Father's ailing health behind her as she shouldered her way into the store she had been aiming for, one that specialized in fine jewellery and personalization. Her father's were the type that would purchase what ever it was they wanted. They were the hardest pair of people to shop for, and once she had decided what to gift them with this year she had kept her lips closed. She had decided on matching pocket watches. Her fathers were classy and traditional, and it was the only piece of jewellery she could determine they didn't already have. They lavished gifts on each other for anniversary's, birthdays and the like and she only hoped she hadn't missed the mark entirely.

The shop was busy. Rachel took off her gloves and stuck them in her oversized purse as she tried to inch her way through the crowded space. Every sales person she could see was busy, and she sighed impatiently. This was going to take longer than she had planned. It seemed everyone had the same idea as her. She pushed her way through the crowd to saddle up next to a case, but allowed another sigh to leave her lips when she determined she was looking at a case full of promise and engagement rings. The exact opposite of what she was looking for.

"What are we shopping for today?" a deep voice cut through her inner contemplation, and as she looked up she felt her cheeks flush. The man in front of her was beautiful, tall, dark and handsome to the extreme.

"Hi," Rachel stumbled over her words as she looked upwards at the piercing green eyes staring down at her. "I need pocket watches," the words tricked out as she cleared her throat. She reached for the scarf she had tied around her neck and pulled at it to loosen the knot. "For my fathers," she clarified, just as the stranger in front of her smiled wide enough for dimples to appear in the corners of his smile.  
"I think I can help you with that," he winked. "This way."

She followed him, edging herself through the throngs of people in the store to follow the taller gentleman.

"Here they are," he presented them to her, the smile still firmly on his face as he swung his hand over the display. "Your father would be lucky to receive any of these."

"Fathers," she corrected. "I have two of them." She didn't look up as she studied the watches in front of her. She studied two of them closer, leaning on the glass to see them clearly. "Can I see those two please?" she pointed to a gold and silver one, the same style. "I think those would be perfect for them."

The sales man nodded and did as she asked. He placed them in front of her. She didn't have to inspect them any further before making her decision. "Those are perfect. I'll take them both."


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

When Scott returned home from Oregon, the house was quiet and draped in darkness save the Christmas tree in the living room. He tried to remain quiet as he shucked off his boots and placed his bag down on the bench as softly as he could. As his senses adjusted to the darkness, his ears perked up to the sound of hushed voices coming from the television as well. He tiptoed towards the living room and smiled a little when he saw Diane curled up under a fluffy blanket watching It's a Wonderful Life.

"Hey," he whispered softly.

Diane jumped a little on the couch.

"Scott!" Diane said with a sleepy start, placing a hand on her heart as she pushed herself upright using her free hand. "Jeez."

"Sorry," he apologized, walking around the stuffed chair to sit down on the couch beside her. "Didn't mean to scare you like that."

"Sure," she huffed as she ran her fingers through her already mused hair. "I didn't realize it was so late."

He nodded. "Flight was delayed. Weather."

Diane nodded, reaching for the remote to turn off the TV.

"Is Harper asleep?"

"No," Diane shook her head after returning the remote to the table in front of her. "She's out with the volleyball team. They decided at the last minute to go caroling."

Scott's mouth formed a small 'o', in response.

"She should be home soon."

Diane's phone chimed in that instance, almost as if by coincidence. Diane reached for it.

"Or not. Sounds like they're going over to Molly's house for hot chocolate now," she sighed with a yawn. "I guess we won't see her for a bit."

Scott nodded his understanding in response. A silence befell them for a moment, with the TV off the silence deafened around them and the questions Diane had about his trip hung in the air.

"Well?" Diane stretched, turning her body to face Scott's.

"Well what?" He chuckled a little then, a yawn escaping his lips. Diane only responded with an arch to her brow.

Scott sighed and stretched his tired body for a moment.

"He lives in the middle of nowhere," he started.

"Oregon is not the middle of nowhere," Diane pointed out. "Scott, it's late. She could be home at any moment and it was hard enough to hide from her that you weren't in fact just up in New Jersey and I've been on the edge of my seat here."

Scott took a deep breath.

"He's…he seems like an okay guy, Diane. He's a mechanic, just like Harper said he had told her. He owns his own shop down there. I drove by it. He told me where to find it. Popular. Lots of cars waiting to be worked on."

"I don't care that his mechanic shop is popular, Scott," she gave him her best come on look. He knew it himself he was stalling.

Truth was, he had the entire plane ride back to New York to go over every single detail Finn Hudson had given him. Fact was, he had been quite open with information and where he stood. Scott had tossed the information around, even gone as far to draw up a pro and con list on his iPad. Neither list was long, both of them weighted equally. By the time he got off at JFK, he had come to one conclusion.

There was no reason not to let Harper talk to her birth father. But although that was the conclusion, it didn't mean he liked it.

"He's been out there since she was born," he whispered. "Remember, in the first few days when we would wonder where they were? If they saw us some days, at the park or taking her to school? I don't know about her, he wouldn't even mention the birth mother by name. But he's been out in Oregon for 18 years."

"Does he look like her?" Diane interrupted.

When Scott didn't answer right away, she repeated her question.

"Does she have his nose? Or his eyes?"

"He looks like the picture Harper showed us. Just with a bit more gray. Older," he sighed.

Diane sighed.

"Did he tell you what he wanted?"

Scott reached over to her and took her hand. It was warm from being curled under the blanket.

"I had a lot of time to think on the way back, and Diane…" he cleared his throat. "I don't think he's in this for more than just wanting to be in her life. I got the strange idea that maybe it wasn't really his choice to give her up. And he just went along for the ride."

Diane's eyes shifted from looking straight at him, down to the blanket covering her lap. "In fact, he told me that. He told me he just wanted to be one more person standing at the finish line cheering her on. He doesn't want to steal her, or anything."

"Did you ever think that was possible?" she chuckled. "Our strong 18-year-old allowing herself be stolen."

It had been a fear of theirs, in the early days, that something would stand in the way of their adoption being finalized and Harper being theirs forever. While the law was on their side, it took a few months for the adoption to be final. It had been a hard time for them. And after meeting Finn, Scott was starting to wonder what those few months were like for Harper's birth parents.

"I have a proposition," Scott cleared his throat. "Or a question, I suppose. I had a lot of time to think about it on the plane."

Diane turned her attention back to him.

"Harper wants to know him, right? And she wants to know where she came from?"

Scott could see the hesitation in her eyes.

"What if we invite him to meet us in New York? We're going to Times Square like always, right?"

Diane opened her mouth, and closed it almost immediately. Scott could see the thoughts swimming around her from the look in her eyes. She was just beginning to formulate an answer when they both heard the garage door groan to life.

Harper was home. Their decision would have to be tabled, even if New Year's Eve was creeping up on them.

* * *

Finn used to love Christmas. He used to love playing in the snow, and how his mother used to make the day as special as she could on a single mother's salary. He was the kind of kid who would be outside playing in the snow from the moment the first flurries fell, to when his mother would drag him in by his hood. Even as he had graduated from building snow forts in their small front yard, and their family had grown by two people when she married his stepfather – he still loved everything about the season, the smells, the gift giving, everything.

But that love had disappeared long ago, and as Finn opened his eyes Christmas morning, he immediately wished he could fall back to sleep and ignore the day. He rolled over in his large king-sized bed with a groan, and he tried to bury his head under his pillow to defend himself against the winter sunlight pouring through the cracks in his blinds.

Christmas Day was just another day for him now, and he didn't even have work to distract him. In the early years when he was first establishing his business he opened the shop Christmas Day, as though it were just an otherwise normal day. But the day ran just as long at the shop, just as they did when he stayed home.

There had been only one year in the string of four years that he opened when he had a customer on Christmas Day. Finn remembered the pretty woman's face. She was someone from out of state, and needed a new battery. Ten minutes of work out of the 8 hours he kept the shop open. He chuckled as he remembered the waste of a day.

Now he spent Christmas days at home, he barely got dressed most years – choosing to stay in his ratty robe and plaid pajama pants that were anything but Christmas-y. He preferred the dark, but the older he got, the harder it was for his eyes to adjust and he had to accommodate with a little light. He didn't put up Christmas lights, another hold off from his younger days that now just seemed so pointless.

Finn shuffled himself out of bed when Huck finally got antsy, and started to bark. Huck was a patient old pup, but when he had to go, he had to go. Finn scrubbed the back of his head, effectively smoothing out and messing up his bedhead simultaneously.

"Okay, okay," he whined almost tripping over his companion.

He stumbled through the hallways that he knew by memory to let Huck out the back door. Finn let the back door slam, causing himself to wince against the noise while he stumbled more into the kitchen. He eyed the microwave with the florescent green coloured numbers and saw that he had managed to sleep until just past 10am. Thank goodness for small mercies.

He shuffled over and grabbed for a Keurig pod, before shoving it where it belonged. Coffee, maybe with a hint of Jack would be just what the doctor ordered to get through. He leaned back against the counter after he set a large coffee mug underneath the spout and waited for it to percolate and dispense.

He was up later than normal the night before, in an attempt to ward off the oncoming of what had once been his favourite holiday. He rubbed his eyes as the coffee finally finished, filling the mug almost to the rim. There was no extra room for milk or cream. But he was sure the Jack would find the space it needed.

Huck scratched at the door just as Finn reached for the bottle left on the counter. He sighed, leaving it uncapped as he made his way to let the old pup in from the cold weather.

Finn traipsed over to the door and opened it, while Huck danced in, covered in wet snow that had fallen the night before. He allowed the screen door to slam shut loudly, and in turn he kicked the old wooden door closed as well, to keep the frosty air out of his kitchen. Huck skirted around him, waiting for Finn to pull down the towel he used to dry him off on days like today. Huck may be old, but nothing got him friskier than the cold weather and a good rub down from a towel.

Huck scampered away as soon as Finn was done. He tossed the towel on the small bench in the corner and went back to his coffee. He grabbed for the bottle of Jack Daniel's on the counter and poured in what some would probably consider too much before swirling it with a finger.

Today would just be another day.

Finn hadn't heard from Harper today. He knew she was busy, she had sent him a flurry of texts in the few days since Scott had sprung himself into Finn's life. She had no idea, he could tell. Or if she did, she was really good at hiding it – another characteristic she shared with Rachel.

 _Rachel_. He tried to banish that name from every surface of his mind. But it was a name that kept boiling to the top of his thoughts more often than not lately. Especially after his tête en tête with Scott. He clutched the handle of the coffee mug a little tighter as his phone dinged from where he' d had left it the night before.

* * *

Harper braced herself as she stepped into her Grandmother's house in Woodhaven. She loved coming here, even if she didn't make it as often as she liked. The house was as familiar as her own, with all the warmth and special memories that came with spending a lot of her childhood weekends here.

Her grin widened as her youngest cousin, Katrina, ran full tilt at her. Katrina was the youngest of her seven cousins, and by far her favourite – though she wouldn't ever say that out loud.

"Harp!" the little girl giggled, launching herself into Harper's arms. Katrina was small for her age, and easy to manage. She was all arms and legs as she wrapped them around her waist.

"Kitty cat," she smiled softly. "Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas Harp!" Katrina giggled madly as Harper carried her further into the house. "Santa camed to my house and brought me an American Girl doll!"

"He did? Which one?" she asked carrying Katrina into the living room where the large brightly lit Christmas tree set the warm tone of the room.

"Chrissa!" Katrina giggled. "She looks just like me!"

"Did you bring her?" Harper smiled.

Katrina nodded and slid down her body, running to the other room to get the doll.

Harper smiled at the rest of her family gathered in the room, mingling with glasses of wine or other choices of drink. Her parents had followed her into the tall brownstone, but disappeared to put the food they had brought in the fridge.

Harper got comfortable on the couch, crossing her legs under her body just as her mother appeared in the room, two mugs in her hand.

"Is one of those for me?" she perked up as Diane came to sit beside her on the couch.

"Maybe," Diane smiled. "Nana made hot cocoa." She smiled and handed over the the mug with a smiley reindeer on it.

"Mmm," Harper smiled.

There was nothing like Nana's hot cocoa, there was just something special about it and she had never come across another that was just as good.

The peaceful calmness of the room exploded when all of Harper's younger cousins bounded in, tumbling over each other like a litter of puppies. Katrina, of course, was leading the way. The young girl giggled as the others chased her, and Harper smiled watching them all collide under the Christmas tree.

With a loud "ho, ho, ho," Nana stole everyone's attention when she came into the room, carrying the familiar big red sack filled with small wrapped gifts. It was the same scene every year. Nana would announce Santa Claus had left a sack full of gifts and though Harper had long since stopping believing in Santa Claus, she played along for the sake of her younger cousins who still believed in the man in red.

Harper took a long sip of her cocoa before placing it beside her on the side table. She enjoyed this tradition, even if she could pretty much count on her package being either socks, underwear or toothpaste and shampoo. Seeing her cousins light up when they unwrapped their small trinkets, earrings for Hailey, a new puck and stick tape for Bradley because he just started playing on a rep hockey team, some stuffed animals for Harrison and Katrina, the youngest.

Every squeal of happiness even with the smallest of gifts made her feel warm and fuzzy, and for her those feelings were what she most associated with being a part of such a big family. Both her parents had large families; her Mom was one of six, her Dad one of eight. Because they came from big families, Harper was never without playmates, even if she was three years older than Marcus on her Mom's side and 16 months older than Andrew, her oldest cousin on her dad's side. She saw the latter not as often now that everyone was older on that side, but she was close with all of them on different levels.

She smiled when Katrina handed her a small box that came from the big red sack. The small package was wrapped in bright green paper with white snowflakes, and as she gently tore at the paper she smiled wide with enthusiasm to what was inside – just as she predicted, some new socks and two bottles of her favourite shampoo and conditioner.

"Thanks Nana," she acknowledged over the din that was her loud and chatty family. Her nana looked up and nodded as she helped another cousin, Harrison, open the small box of matchbox cars that had been his gift from the bag.

She put the package down at her feet as the gifts from under the tree were being passed around.

The cousins had all done a secret Santa, and she drew Alannah's name so she was particularly interested to see her reaction. Alannah was hard to shop for, Harper thought. Being 16, she wasn't sure what she liked and what she knew she did she had conflicted ideas if she had it or not already. She had also landed her first job this summer and according to her aunt Jillian, bought most of what she needed or wanted herself.

So for Alannah, Harper went the tried and true route with a bunch of colourful bath bombs and scented face masks from one of the more upscale shops in the mall. She watched Alannah open the polka dot wrapped gift from where she was sitting, and when her eyes lit up, Harper sighed in relief.  
"Good choice," her mom smiled as she sipped on her cocoa.

Harper couldn't help but smile and allow her shoulders to relax the little bit. She hadn't realized they were tensed up. A gift was dropped in her lap before she had a chance to think it over any further, and she looked up just in time to see her 9-year-old cousin Collin retreat back to his spot beside his mom.

Collin was adopted, just like her. But unlike her, his milk chocolate skin tone caused him to stand out amongst the crowd that made up their family. He was a quiet one, content to sit quietly in the corner and watch, versus be involved like many of the younger ones. She looked down at the package in her lap, wrapped messily, and she knew immediately he had wrapped it.

"Well done with the wrapping, Bud," she called out to the young boy, tossing him a huge smile. "Collin, you did this all by yourself?"

The boy smiled proudly.

Underneath the paper was a little box, and if she wasn't intrigued before, she was now. She gingerly opened the box under his watchful eye, and smiled when she saw what was inside. There lay a beautiful pandora charm bracelet with three charms. She smiled widely, and was about to thank Collin for the beautiful gift when he spoke up first.

"I picked all the charms," he whispered. "Do you like it?"

She nodded gently and took the bracelet from the box immediately. She fingered the three charms, one a volleyball, one a heart with a purple gem in the middle. The third was a tiny robot. Collin loved robots and anything related.

"I love it," she smiled as she slid the bracelet around her wrist before she walked over to give him a hug. "I love it so much Collin, thank you." she smiled.

The smile she received in return made her cheeks warm and her eyes water just a little. Along with being quiet, Collin was a little slow to show emotion, and that made the smile on his face mean all the more to her.

"It's so you remember me at Yale," the smile never wavered from his lips for that moment as Harper absorbed what he was saying to him. Collin may be the quiet one of the family, but he had big thoughts it seemed.

She walked back to the couch and sat back as the clamour of her family opening gifts around her faded. She stared at her bracelet and his words danced around her mind as the rest of her cousins excitedly opened their gifts.

Yale, it seemed so far off but it was so close. Collin mentioning her dream school brought up thoughts she had been pushing away the whole Christmas season – this could be her last Christmas at home, if she got into Yale like she wanted. The deadline was looming closer as the days ticked by, and while she had unearthed some information from Finn and had begun to put her thoughts on paper, there were so many holes that were still missing.

There wasn't much to what she had so far, and it concerned her. She was running out of time, and felt like she knew absolutely nothing about where she had come from. She looked over at Collin, as he opened a build-your-own robot kit and she tried to remember how she felt at his age.

By age nine, Harper had known for a few years that she was adopted, just like Collin. But at her age, it hadn't really bothered her – she had great parents and most of the great family surrounding her were so loving. All the grown-ups had known, of course, they had been privy to her parents' years of painful infertility and cancelled adoptions. But they had gotten her, and given her, everything. Including the option to seek out her birth parents to find out who she really was, down in her DNA despite the wonderful life they had built for her.

Maybe her parents had been initially right to be doubtful of the whole idea. The questions left unanswered, the ones Finn danced around or ignored completely. She couldn't help but feel like there was something he wasn't telling her, and the truth surrounding who she was and where she came from or better yet, who she came from, bothered her. She stood up and stretched as Mia squealed over some slime making kit that was gifted to her.

"I'm going to the washroom," she whispered so only her mother could hear, a response to her quizzical look.

She stepped out of the room, the chaos of her large family growing softer as she walked down the long hallway that led to the bedroom where she had dumped off her bag when they arrived. She flipped through the bag, reaching for her phone. The screen lit up with different messages from friends and members of the other side of her family wishing her a Merry Christmas. She flipped through and responded to each one of them, her fingers pausing when she came across the Merry Christmas message from Finn.

 _Merry Christmas Harp. Hope you have a great day with your family in Woodhaven._

He remembered every detail about her life, everything she told him. It was the first message she had from him in a few days, and she had missed the daily messages.

 _Merry Christmas Finn._ She wrote. _Are you doing anything exciting there?_ She sat down on the bed, the old mattress creaking under the movement.

She didn't except a response quickly, but when her phone beeped immediately she sure didn't really expect it to be Finn. The message was a picture of Huck lying in front of a TV playing a movie she didn't recognize.

 _Our tradition. Die Hard._ He sent the message before she could ask the question first. _Huck and I are going to have turkey sandwiches for dinner in a little._

It struck her then as she listened to the raucous laughter of her family coming from down the hall that maybe, Finn was alone. She nibbled on her lip gently as she stared at the picture he had sent of the old pup and she tried to determine if her gut was right. But the way he had taken it, with not even anything but his slipper covered feet, the old pup and the TV in front of them, revealed nothing.

It hit her in a weird way: the idea that Finn was alone on a holiday he loved so much—at least that's what he'd told her just a few days ago. The noise of her family came closer, which told her they were moving to the dining room to eat the delicious turkey her Nana spent all morning cooking.

Katrina bounced into the room just as she was formulating a response to his text as the still sinking feeling about Finn being alone sunk in.

"Harp!" she giggled. "It's gobble gobble time!" she giggled as she flung herself at the bed. "Why are you on your phone?"

"I'm done," Harper said putting her phone back in her bag. "Let's go eat!"

Harper grabbed Katrina and headed to the kitchen as Katrina screeched "I found her!"

* * *

When they got back to the car later that evening, Harper finally let her smile fade and her shoulders fall. It had been a long day, and she still couldn't shake the image of Finn alone on Christmas Day. She was quiet as they started the hour long drive home, and it took only minutes for her parents to both notice.

"Did you have a good day?" Diane asked as Scott maneuvered the SUV and headed for the thruway that would take them home.

"Yeah," Harper smiled, looking out the window as they started to speed up. "It was a good one. You?"

"It was nice," Diane replied looking over at Scott. "I thought that salad Aunt Caroline made was different."

"The cranberry one?" Harper asked. She had tried it only to get Katrina to try it too. It wasn't her favourite, only because she wasn't a fan of cranberries. "It was okay."

She could see her mom nod out of the corner of her eye, and she appreciated it even more when neither of them continued the conversation.

The quiet of the car was a welcome break from the din that had been her Nana's house. But the silence also allowed for her thoughts to run rampant. Her phone had died just before dinner, so she took the time to lean her head back on the headrest of her seat and just absorb the silence.

Her dad turned the radio on low, the soothing sounds of classic Christmas songs filled the silence. She appreciated that her parents didn't pry or fill the silence with needless chatter. Being around her big boisterous family took a lot out of all of them, and they were often quiet for the drives home.

When she was little, the drive from their home to Woodhaven and back again always seemed longer than it really was. Since she had gotten older and learned to drive herself, Harper found the distance didn't seem all that far after all. It went by in a blink, and Harper was sure she had fallen asleep on the drive home.

Harper stumbled a little sliding out of her Dad's truck, and she knew then that she had in fact fallen asleep during the drive. Her dad chuckled as he caught her arm before she tripped into the storage shelf where he kept his tools.

"Careful," he laughed softly. He walked her over to the few steps and helped her into the house. She shook herself to wake up a little and kicked off her Uggs in a tired shrug as Samson traipsed over and immediately sought her out.

"Hi pup," she smiled tiredly. She scratched between his ears as he lovingly leaned into her hand. "Did you have a good afternoon?"

Samson followed Harper into the kitchen where her mom was putting away leftovers from the Christmas feast.

"Let's go outside," Harper said as she unlocked the door and let Samson out. He quickly dashed for the door, scampering through the snow as the fresh air hit his skin. She closed the glass door, but leaned against it, watching Samson run around in the powdered snow, barking at nothing but the reflection of their spotlight on the snow.

"Silly pup," Harper said to herself.

"He barking at the light again?" Scott asked as he came into the kitchen.

She nodded. In another minute, Samson came running back up the stairs and scratched at the door. Harper smiled and opened the door as he ran inside, bringing snow and cold with him.

"Brrr," Harper bristled.

Diane was quick with a towel to dry off the dog's paws. Samson hated having his paws dried and yelped when Diane caught hold of him.

Harper laughed heartily.

"He still doesn't like that."

"Let's settle for three of four paws," Diane laughed. "After all, it is Christmas."

After cleaning up the watery mess Samson had left, Diane asked Harper if she wanted to watch a movie to close out the day.

It took Harper only a moment to mull it over.

"Sure. That sounds perfect. I'm going to change into those pajamas you got me," she said.

Diane nodded her consent as Harper turned for the solace of her room for a moment.

"Did she go upstairs?" Scott asked as he came into the kitchen.

Diane nodded, tossing the cloth used to wipe Samson behind her in the laundry room.

"She's changing into her PJs. I suggested putting on a movie," Diane answered. "She seems quiet though."

Scott chuckled a bit.

"Anything is quiet when we come home from your Mom's," he laughed. His own family was just as loud, but not as close. "She'll come around. I think she fell asleep in the car."

Harper walked downstairs after changing, her phone charger in her hand.

"What movie do you guys want to watch?" she asked making her presence known in the room. Both parents eyed her intensely and Harper felt she had interrupted a conversation.

"How about The Grinch?" Scott smiled. "We haven't had a chance to watch that one yet and it's already Christmas Day."  
Harper smiled. "Jim Carrey's version?"

"Is there any other choice?"

Harper couldn't help but laugh a little. Movies were always something she and her Dad connected on.

She claimed her spot on the couch, and plugged her phone in to charge while she waited for her parents to join her. It didn't take her phone long to boot up, and it immediately came alive with notifications of responses to her messages from earlier. She sighed deeply when she didn't have a response from Finn. She had responded to his last text about never seeing Die Hard, but he hadn't responded in kind which struck her as odd. As quickly as the thought came to mind, she remembered t he was alone and the same feeling of empathy filled her.

"What's wrong?" her mom's voice shocked her into reality and she almost tossed her phone back.

"What do you mean?" she asked abruptly. "Nothing's wrong."

"Your expression tells me otherwise. What's wrong?" Diane tried again.

Harper's shoulders sagged in that moment, and she decided it was best to come clean. Hiding things from her parents had not served her well in the past. She cleared her throat and looked at her mother.

"Finn hasn't responded to my last message. He's alone, today," she added. A thickness rose in her voice and she immediately tried to beat it down. She didn't understand why she was feeling this way, for a person she didn't really know.

Her mom sat on the couch. "I'm sure he…" Diane's words were cut off as Harper pulled up the picture he had sent her, with no other explanation.

"Is this what has you upset?" Diane asked quietly handing the phone back to Harper. She nodded and tried to clear the thickness from her throat. "That he didn't message you back? This has happened before Harp."

"No. That he's alone," she whispered. "It just made me feel bad."

Diane sighed deeply. "Harp, I know he's important to you, but he's an adult and can make his own decisions."

Harper nodded in agreement. "I know. Just made me think of how lucky I am to have everything I have. You guys, our crazy family," she chuckled as a few stray tears came rolling down her cheeks. She always got emotional when she was tired and it had been a long day. Diane reached over and wiped her stray tears as Scott came into the room.

"We're the lucky ones to have you, sweet girl," Diane smiled as she pushed her hair back a little.

Scott cleared his throat. "I, uh, might know why he hasn't responded to you."

He had heard the conversation and he knew it was now or never with his admission.

Harper sat up quickly. "What do you mean? Dad, what did you say to him?"

Harper had no idea if they had their own channels to talk to Finn, but she felt her heart beat against her chest as her thoughts raced.

Scott sat down on the chair opposite Harper and Diane and crossed his hands over his knees.

"I just want you to know that everything I've ever done, everything we've ever done has been with your best interest in mind."

Harper impatiently sighed. "Dad, I know. I know Please just tell me what you did."

"I went to see him."

Harper's heart pounded loudly in her ears.

"You what? When?" her mind raced with thoughts and tried to connect the dots. It all became clear in an instant. "Your business trip. You weren't in New Jersey or wherever." her voice raised an octave as Scott nodded. "Dad!" she cried. "Why didn't you take me with you?"

Diane placed a hand on her knee. "It was a sudden trip and we didn't want you to…"

"You knew too?" she exclaimed, pushing Diane's hand off her knee. "What else have you lied to me about in the last two weeks? What did you say to him?"

Scott cleared his throat again. "I just wanted to check in on him. I wanted to make sure he was who he said he was. I did it to protect you."

"Is that why he was quiet for a few days?" Harper's lip trembled. "Did you threaten him?"

"Harper, you know I would never do that."

"I never thought you would go behind my back and meet my birth father without me," she whispered.

"Harper, take a deep breath," Diane tried.

"I am breathing," she snapped. She did as her mother instructed anyway, and looked her father dead in the eye. "Well?"

"Well what?" Scott cautiously asked.

"How is he?" she whispered, her voice dropping by the second. Her mind drifted to the picture he had sent.

"He's…" Scott wondered how to word it. "He is absolutely your birth father."

Harper let go of a deep breath.

"And that's why I invited him this morning to come into the city and meet up with us," he added nonchalantly. "But he hasn't responded yet."

Harper's jaw dropped. Her heart sped up in record speed and she clutched her hands together to ensure she was still in the room as her ears rang. Her dad had met Finn. Her dad had gone to see Finn without her knowing. Her dad, and presumably her mom had invited Finn to meet them in New York City, in Times Square actually which was their New Years Eve tradition.

"You're going to let me meet him," Harper asked softly, her voice cracked and dripped lowly. "You invited him to meet us."

The words rolled off her tongue but still felt foreign. She felt dizzy at the idea of getting to meet him, getting to ask him things in person and confirm for herself that he was somehow _her birth father._

Both her parents nodded.

"After I met him and talked to him, I decided he wasn't what I feared he could be," Scott admitted. "I was worried he would be someone who would take advantage of you. But that's on me. That fear is on me. And this," he gestured between them as a way of animating their conversation and his offer, "this is my way of saying I'm okay with it. I've sent him a paid for plane ticket and he'll stay in the same hotel…."

With her ears swimming, Harper finally spoke up. "if he agrees."

Both Diane and Scott nodded as she grabbed her phone and furiously began typing. They both breathed a long sigh of relief.

* * *

He had a buzz going. The best part of drinking alone was there as no one around to judge how much he'd had. Finn rubbed his face as he polished off another glass of Jack and Coke. He had switched from Coke to coffee somewhere around noon and it had absolutely no correlation with his last message to Harper and the one he had received from Scott.

The name felt odd on his tongue, and he immediately bit it back. He didn't like that he knew the name of the man who raised the daughter he could now openly admit he'd wanted to raise for the past 18 years. The thought alone gave him a headache. He held his phone in his hand, and stared blurry eyed at the email he had received from _Scott._  
 _  
Merry Christmas Finn,_

 _I apologize again for dropping in on you unannounced last week. But I hope you understand that as Harper's father, I needed to see for myself that you were the man you presented yourself to be._

 _I've spoken with Diane, my wife, and we would to like to extend an invitation for you to join us and Harper on New Year's Eve in Times Square. It's our yearly tradition and both Diane and I have agreed that this could be a perfect opportunity for you and Harper to have a face to face. Attached to this email you will find a ticket voucher and the address of the hotel we will be staying at. Please let me know if you'll be joining us so we can make arrangements._

 _Kindly,  
Scott Richards. _

The email had driven him to drink harder, and faster. The idea of meeting Harper in person made his palms sweat. He still hadn't answered. He hadn't even responded to her last text message about never seeing Die Hard, which was preposterous on its own.

It was now or never. With shaky hands, he clicked reply and simply typed yes, to the email and pressed send.

* * *

Sorry it's been so long.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

Going into the city for New Years Eve was one of Harper's most cherished memories with her parents. They had been doing it for as long as she could remember. She loved being with her parents, surrounded by the crowd of people that were just as excited about the New Year as she was. As she got older her parents offered to let her bring along friends, but for Harper that would never be the same.

The days leading up to New Year's Eve had been some sort of twilight zone for Harper. Her father's revelation left her stunned, and once they received confirmation that Finn had accepted their invitation, her thoughts instantly went wild and overtook her every moment.

She was going to meet Finn, face to face. Every time the thought crossed her mind, which at this point was pretty much always as the day crawled closer, Harper felt an overwhelming sense of excitement and fear all rolled into one. Excitement, because meeting him face to face was one of her biggest dreams, and fear because, well, she wasn't sure what to expect. He had done nothing up until now to tell her otherwise, but she couldn't help the nagging feeling that maybe things weren't exactly what they seemed.

For what it was worth, her parents tried to support her as much as they could. Her father had met Finn already. He continued to reassure her that he seemed like a good guy, truthful and genuine. But she couldn't keep the nagging feelings at bay. She had read post after post on the website where she had joined the registry about reunions gone wrong, about birth parents did not want anything to do with biological kids after all

The drive into the city wasn't long, but the car was filled with a thick cloud of uncertainty she didn't recognize. The silence did nothing for her anxiety about what the afternoon and evening would bring. She felt like everything was going in slow motion, and that her father was driving slower than he usually would – not that he was a speed demon or anything, but everything just felt like it was moving at a turtle's pace. Her mother had her head stuck in a book, unusual only in this instance, as her mother loved to chatter about the scenery, pointing out unique light displays that were still hanging out on their drive. Her mother loved reading, but in all of her childhood she could count on one hand the amount of times she had seen her mother read in the car. She claimed it made her sick.

Harper crossed her arms over her chest as she tried to lose herself in the music playing in her headphones, one ear in and one ear out. As they made their way into the city they got and closer to the hotel they always stayed at, she felt her palms sweat. They had standing reservations because her parents loved this, and loved visiting with her. They booked Finn into the same hotel, and as they pulled into the underground parking her anxiety took off and her eyes and brain were on red alert.

Was he here yet? Did he rent a car? If he did, which one was it? Did he take a taxi? He probably took a taxi, she rationalized as they parked. He wasn't staying long, she assumed. She scanned the area around them in the parking lot but she only spotted an older couple and a few families with young children that looked like they were packing up versus coming in.

"Earth to Harper," Scott chuckled as he stood beside her.

When she didn't respond at first, he gently tapped her shoulder to get her attention. He had opened her door, going unnoticed in her haze of worry. Harper shook herself out of the fog when she felt the tap to her shoulder.

"We're here," Scott announced.

Harper blinked a few times to clear the fog from her eyes, and smiled at her Dad.

"Finally," she smiled. When she was younger, she always lamented how long the drive took. In hindsight, it wasn't long at all.

Scott playfully rolled his eyes, trying to break the tension that had ensnared the ride up. "It wasn't that long. Come on, help me with the bags," he insisted.

Harper nodded, finally removing her headphones, allowing the sounds of the parking garage to surround her and rub the edges off her nerves. She went through the motions, grabbing her large purse before freeing herself from the safety of the back seat. By the time she got around to it, her parents had already liberated the three small suitcases they had packed from the trunk.

"Let's head in," Scott smiled, breaking the silence that had surrounded them once more. It appeared the same fog that had wrapped around her, had claimed her parents as well.

They walked together into the hotel, walking the same hallways that were as familiar to her as the ones back home. Her senses clicked into high alert the moment they walked through the door, and much like when they had parked, her eyes skidded around the environment around her for any hint of her birth father.

* * *

Finn sat in his hotel room, the silence a welcome change from the chatty flight and busy airport. It had been a long morning already, and he wondered if it would serve him well to take a nap. The hotel room Scott booked him was larger and more luxurious than he had imagined, and one that he would not have booked for himself. He eyed the mini bar, but killed the thought of taking a drink as fast as the idea hit him. It was still only 11am, and while the drink sounded great he didn't want to risk the chance of smelling like whiskey for the lunch meeting with Harper and her parents.

His stomach did flips at the thought. He was meeting Harper today, face to face. He dreamed about this meeting for years, and as soon as he had given them the okay, his thoughts had run rampant as he waited for the day to come. He packed and unpacked, though he didn't have a lot to choose from. He lived a simple life, and that extended to the contents of his closet and dresser drawers. He wanted to make a good impression, and had even made a quick trek to the closest Target a few days before to chose a few new plaid shirts and a new pair of jeans. He didn't want Harper to think he didn't care, because the reality was he cared much more than he was even letting himself understand.

He was getting to meet his daughter. The word felt weird on his tongue, it burned and fizzled like just like the pop rocks he loved as a kid. The word represented all he ever wanted. But he had to keep himself in check, remind himself of the reality – she was someone else's daughter, still. He was just getting the chance to be there for the rest of her life. They had done the hard work. He would hopefully, get the benefits. He stood from the bed quickly and walked over to the minibar. He quickly grabbed a water to quench the dry feeling spreading through his mouth and throat. The reality of what was going to happen and desperation that he needed it to go well flooded in. He traveled so far for this, boarded a plane that had given him the biggest sense of déjà vu he had ever experienced. He chugged the water quickly, squeezed the plastic and tossed it towards the garbage bin that rested beside the cabinet. When he missed, Finn collapsed back against the bed and rubbed his face hard, desperately trying to will away the expectations he had for meeting.

* * *

Harper had chosen a longer, dark blue blouse with bell sleeves after a painstaking half an hour. She had only packed a few tops that she deemed worthy for such an occasion, but at the last moment none looked like they would make the cut. She paired the blouse carefully with a pair of her favourite skinny jeans, and she had just enough time to pull the top half of her unruly mop of hair into a clip before her Mom alerted her that prep time was almost up. She blew out a long breath and quickly attacked her skin, slathering on moisturizer and foundation in a rush not unlike any other day. But once she had completed, she stopped herself from applying anything more than a quick coat of mascara. He was her birth father and this was their first face to face. It wasn't a date, but she still wanted to make a good impression just as the nerves struck her once more. She swallowed deeply before leaving the safe confines of the bathroom.

She stepped out to find both her parents sitting on the bed closest to the bathroom door, both sitting eerily up right and staring right at her.

"Ready?" she asked, her nerves fully obvious through her voice.

As if they were having the same thought, Scott and Diane rose from the bed at the same time. It was her mother's who reached her first. Harper's tension began to wane as her Mom gently touched her arm.

"Are you ready?" Diane asked gently as Scott reached for his wallet and the door keys.

Harper swallowed, slowly and almost painfully before she nodded her head. She grabbed her large purse and slung it over her shoulder.  
"I am," she stated as confidently as she could. Inside, her mind was screaming and her stomach was tumbling around in nervousness. She only hoped she could hold it together enough to make a decent impression. 

* * *

Finn wanted to make the best first impression he could on Harper. He nervously followed the waitress through the maze of tables in the large restaurant that connected the hotel lobby. It felt weird asking for a table for four when he was alone, but when the pretty blonde waitress didn't bat an eye, he let the feeling go. The waitress left him after he placed an order for a water and a diet coke. Once again, the urge to order a beer to calm his frazzled nerves was easily squashed by his need to get to know his daughter, sober. He clenched his hands together and tried not to stare at the entrance he had just come in himself. He couldn't help it, and he felt himself squeeze his hands tighter together every time he saw a family of three walk through the door. The arrival of his diet coke and water did nothing to quell the raging anxiety, and he took a moment to take a long sip when a pair of older gentlemen strolled through the door as if they owned the place.

Finn watched intently as a waitress followed them through the same maze of tables and seated them at the other end of the restaurant. He then directed his attention back to the entrance as he heard more feet bustling through. An out-of-place clock atop the wood entrance held Finn's gaze. He couldn't help but watch as the second and minute hands ticked by slowly. His nervousness was rolling through him faster with each tick.

* * *

As they stepped out of the elevator that brought them down from their 5th floor hotel room, Harper felt like her heart was going to fully leap out of her chest. She slowed her steps in an effort to ease her rapid heart rate, the closer they got to the restaurant. Her parents had walked off the elevator in front of her and for once she appreciated that they were faster walkers than she, even in their older age. She contemplated for a few brief seconds as they got closer, that maybe she could make a run for it. Her nerves were getting the best of her and she desperately eyed the area around her trying to put together a means to escape. But just as quickly as that thought attacked her subconscious, it fled. She couldn't do that, not to her parents, not to Finn and especially not to herself. Harper knew deep down she wanted to go through with this, she just needed her anxieties to back away. For good.

Harper cleared her thoughts with another deep breath and followed her parents into the spacious restaurant. She knew what he looked like, errr, what a younger him looked like. She was sure she would be able to spot him, she hoped. Wouldn't she just _know?_

It only took a few steps before her eyes landed on him. She felt it in her bones she was right as she stared, but she couldn't get her legs to move towards the older man in front of her.

* * *

Finn felt someone staring at him. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and he slowly looked up from his diet coke and he just _knew._

There she was. He stood up immediately, nodding slowly and inconspicuously to Scott as the older man came into his line of vision. Finn's hands felt clammy and he wondered if the sweat he thought he felt was actually running down his forehead and dotting his nose.

"Hello Finn."

Scott was the first to speak, extending his hand out to shake. Finn unconsciously wiped his hands on his new Target purchased jeans to wipe away any sweat.

"Scott," he smiled softly as he shook the older man's hand.

Harper was quiet. In that moment Finn couldn't take his eyes off her. She was more beautiful than he ever imagined, than every picture could ever do justice. He watched as Scott nudged her, as Diane held out her hand as well.

"I'm Diane," she said, sounding very together. "It's a pleasure to meet you, finally, Finn"

Harper felt muted. Her body felt like it had gone up in flames as she stood in front of Finn.

It felt like an out of body experience as she watched first her father shake Finn's hand, and then her mother. It suddenly felt very real. The lively restaurant she had visited many times over the years fell silent. In spite of the bustling activity over the lunch hour, she could hear nothing but her heart beating out of control. He was right in front of her. Finn was right in front of her. Her **birth father** was right in front of her. She felt Scott nudge her, unsure if he had done it before or if this was the first touch and it jolted her out of her daze.

"Hello," she whispered, her voice coming out much huskier than she anticipated.

The research articles and posts she read on the adoption website hadn't prepared her for the feeling of freezing she experienced in the moment.

"I'm Harper."

Finn's face broke out in a smile in that moment.

"I know," he chuckled softly.

Harper felt her shoulders relax instantly.

"I'm Finn-your birth father," he smiled with a nod.

"I know," she whispered. "You've gotten a little grayer, you should update your Facebook picture," she smiled with a wink.

Finn chuckled softly.

"It's fine, really. You're not wrong. I haven't really used Facebook in a long time, at least until I got your message."

Harper nodded. "I only use it for school, really."

The waitress that had brought Finn's drink reappeared, and took their drink orders before scurrying away to get their coffees and iced tea.

"Did you have a nice flight, Finn?" Scott asked once the waitress left them alone with a promise to return quickly with their drinks.

Finn took a sip of his water, and quickly swallowed before he nodded his head.

"I did. I haven't been on a plane in years," he added with a bit of a smile. "Haven't left Georgia in what's felt like forever, actually."

Harper noticed both her parents nod out of the corner of her eye, but she felt like she couldn't take her eyes off Finn. She couldn't quite wrap her head around the fact that he was sitting right in front of her. She fingered the napkin that was settled beside her place setting. The soothing feel of the material between her fingers helped with her anxieties.

"How long did it take you to get here?" Harper asked quietly.

"It was about 5 hours," he replied. "I slept a good portion of the way though. I can pretty much sleep anywhere, I've been like that since I was younger."

Scott chuckled as he looked over at Harper.

"Not this one. It's only been recently that she would sleep in the car," he winked. "She used to cry every time we drove into the city, or on any trip really that was longer than 10 minutes."

Harper didn't miss Finn listening with rapt attention.

She saw her parents look at each other as the waitress returned with their drinks.

"I think we're going to take these over there," Scott smiled as he pointed to a smaller table just to the left of where they were sitting. The hovering waitress nodded. "Give you guys a chance to talk? That's what we're here for, anyway isn't it?'

Harper nodded, maybe a little to eagerly and a chuckle left Finn's lips as both Diane and Scott stood.

Finn watched as Scott and Diane walked over to the table a few feet from them. He folded his hands in front of him and just let the silence envelope them. Though there wasn't much silence to be had in the busy restaurant, but just sitting there with Harper in front of him brought him a sense of calm. He had waned this for so long, and now that he had her in front of him – he wanted time to slow down, and he wanted to know everything she hadn't told him already. He would even gladly hear the same stories she had already told him, just to spend time with her.

He couldn't help but stare at her once more. Pictures hadn't even begun to do her justice. Harper, to him, was beautiful. He tried to beat them away, but his mind continued to draw parallels and find all the little things in her appearance that looked just like _her_ – from her dark messy hair to her deep brown eyes – there was so much about the young woman in front of him that just screamed _Rachel_ to him. .

"You're my birth father," Harper said, breaking the silence and effectively ending Finn's internal rants.

"I am," he smiled widely, nodding along with his words. "You've already said that. You repeat yourself a lot, don't you?"

Harper blushed a little.

"I guess?" she shrugged with a chuckle. "I've never really noticed."

"I'm more of a rambler myself," Finn offered. "Usually once I get started talking I can't stop."

It was his turn to play with his napkin.

"But you're being mighty quiet," Harper pointed out.

The waitress arrived with her ice tea, and after thanking her, Harper immediately went to take a sip.

He chuckled, and waited for her to put her glass down before speaking up.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to be quiet. I just can't really believe that you're sitting here in front of me. It's like a dream come true," he admitted.

Harper blushed once more.

"It's mine too," she whispered as she sat up straighter. "I've already told you about what a good life I've had. You've talked to my dad."

Harper watched as Finn nodded in agreement.

"Did you want to give me up?" she asked tentatively.

This time, Finn sat up straighter himself. He cleared his throat.

"I wanted what was best for you," he paused. "And I'm sure you've done the math already," he chuckled. "I was pretty young when you were born. Looking back now, I couldn't have given you the life your parents have. I didn't have a job, I didn't really have a place to live."

Harper touched his hand.

"I see what you mean about the rambling," she chuckled.

Finn laughed uncomfortably and reached for his drink again and took a sip.

"Didn't you live here?" she enquired. Her birth certificate said New York City.

"My girl – your birth mother did," he stumbled. He wondered if the waitress was ever going to come back. "I was traveling back and forth at the time."

Harper sighed a little. What did that mean?

"Were you and my birth mother not together?" she asked.

They hadn't really talked about her. Finn hadn't even really named her, for her. Harper noted the squeamish look on his face when she asked the question, but she didn't take it back. She wanted to know.

"We, we were. It was just complicated. She had her life here, and I had yet to figure out where I wanted to be."

Harper chewed her lip. She had sketched a very brief outline of what she though their lives were like, based on what she had been told.

"There was one time I thought I would have lived here," Finn continued. "But sometimes life sends you in another direction. And then sometimes it brings you a miracle. And that's bringing you back into my life."

Harper smiled.

"Can I know her name? You've never told me."

Finn fidgeted in his seat, fingering the empty water glass in front of them, and he wondered if the damn waitress was ever coming back to take their food orders, just as his stomach rumbled. His hunger suddenly became his forethought, but Harper placing her own glass down on the table shook him back to the matter at hand.

"Oh," he said clearing his throat, eyeing the restaurant to see if he could track down the waitress.

"Her name is Rachel," Finn answered softly.

Just saying her name out loud made the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck stand up on end, his throat dry up and his muscles tense. He licked his dry lips in hopes that just her first name would be enough. But the look in Harper's eyes told Finn that it wasn't. He should have known, he though with a small smile. She was just like her.

"Rachel. Rachel Berry."

Finn watched her scramble for her phone, and write the name down. He breathed a sigh of relief when she immediately put the phone back in its spot, face down on the side of the table.

"Rachel."

The name rolled off Harper's tongue, and Finn fidgeted enough in his seat that it drew the attention of tables around her.

"Can you tell me about her?" she asked.

"I haven't seen her in 18 years," he answered quickly, the words slipping off his tongue in an abrupt manner that took even him by surprise.

Harper's eyes widened a little, taken aback by the sudden burst.

"I'm sorry," he immediately replied. "I…."

Finn ran his fingers through his hair, pulling a little on the ends. He was supposed to get a hair cut before he boarded the plane, but had spent too much time at Target.

The waitress interrupted them, before he could complete the apology he wanted to give her. He didn't want to give her a bad vibe. He wanted her to trust him.

"Are we ready to order over here?" the waitress smiled meekly.

Finn caught Scott and Diane staring at him from across the room and he immediately drew his attention to the menu.

"I am," Harper spoke up quickly. "Is it too late for the breakfast menu?"

The waitress shook her head and let Harper know they served breakfast all day.

"Can I have the garden omelette? And two hash browns on the side?"

As the waitress wrote down the order, Finn sat up knowing it as now his turn.

"I'll have the Colby burger," he said, "but can I have a salad on the side?"

Normally, if he was dining alone, he would have piled on the fries or even onion rings. "and another diet coke, please?"

When the waitress left, Harper's attention was right back on him.

"You haven't seen her in 18 years?" Harper questioned, chewing her lip nervously.

It was like the puzzle was expanding, but there were spots where there were absolutely no pieces in sight.

Finn nodded. "No, I haven't."

"Why?" she asked rapidly.

"It's complicated, Harper," he sighed deeply.

Harper released a similar breath. She raised an eyebrow, trying to convey that the answer wasn't enough.

"Giving you up was one of the most difficult – no, it was the most difficult thing I have ever had to do in my whole life," Finn said.

"You've said that quite a few times now actually," she snapped briefly, remembering their conversations. She took another cleansing breath to try and get control of her emotions.

"And I've meant it every single time I've said it," Finn folded his hands in front of him. "My relationship with Rachel was complicated at best."

"What does that mean? She wanted to keep me but you didn't or … or she didn't want me but you did. That's it, isn't it? She was selfish."

Finn was caught unawares. He struggled wondering if telling Harper the entire truth wouldn't sully her opinion of her birth mother. But the truth was the truth, he thought to himself.

Harper watched him with a focused stare. Finn twitched in his seat, her stare getting to him quicker by the second. When she looked at him just as she was now, all he saw was Rachel.

"Rachel, she…she had these big dreams and she took time out to have you," he paused, his mouth becoming parched as the truth spilled from his lips. "We had no money. I spent every dime I had on flights to and from New York. She was in school and her parents would only pay for it and her living expenses if she stayed there."

"So I was right," her voice dropped an octave, and for a brief minute Finn saw himself in her features as her eyes gazed downwards. He wanted to reach out and touch her hand, but something stopped him

"She didn't want me. She gave me up and you just went along with it."

Finn drew in a quick breath.

"Like I said, Harper, it was complicated."

Her head shot up and she rolled her eyes.

"Doesn't seem very complicated to me. Seems pretty black and white. You wanted me, she didn't. Black and white," she declared giving a dramatic shrug.

"In another life, we would have…."

She held up her hand in a stop motion.

"Kept me, I know."

Harper closed her mouth firmly, her lips drawing into a fine line. The waitress appeared before she could say anything more. Finn could see the thoughts racing in her mind, her eyes wide and glassy as the waitress placed their meals in front of them. He suddenly wasn't very hungry, but quietly followed Harper's lead as she dug into her omelette with gusto. He slowly dressed his burger with additional ketchup and mustard before he lifted it to his mouth to take a bite, careful not to spill any condiments on himself. He'd already upset her and he didn't want to make her feel worse.

They both ate in silence. Harper's mind was racing. She was so confused, nothing added up for her. She had thought - long ago before she had even conjured up the idea of looking for her birth parents and meeting up with Finn - that it would have been simple. She had always known being adopted was part of who she was. Part of that was she believed her birth parents had given her up because it was the right thing to do, unanimously. But now she was hearing differently. Or so she thought. She needed to know more. She needed answers that had been on the tip of her tongue for as long as she could remember.

"Can you tell me about her at least?" she asked quietly.

The taste of her omelette burned on her tongue, and she reached for her iced tea to wash away the heat. She saw Finn's eyes widen from across the table, and she repeated the question.

"What do you want to know?"

Harper watched him swallow more fully, and waited a beat.

"I want to know everything you can remember. Or do I have to go to the internet to find her too?" Harper chuckled at the thought.

Finn sighed deeply, but that didn't stop Harper from continuing her line of questioning.

"You said she was in school when she got pregnant with me. What was she in school for? Where did she go to school? Was she almost done? What did she look like? Was she tall like you or short like me?"

The questions flowed out of Harper's lips, and didn't stop.

"She went to NYU, she studied theatre and dance as a major. She had to stop dance once she started to …to show," he answered trying to remember her questions as much as he could

"She was a lot shorter than me, probably a little shorter than you are now which made her a fantastic dancer. She went to NYU because it had the best program in the city and she wanted to be on Broadway."

Finn paused, taking a sip of his diet coke.

"That's all she talked about. Becoming a star on Broadway."

"Did she?" Harper wondered aloud.

Harper's mind was running away from her.

"I haven't kept up," he fibbed.

The last thing Finn had heard about Rachel Berry was she had landed a big role in some play or another and her star was on the rise. He had his brother to thank for that. Not that he asked for or required the information.

Finn took a deep breath and took another large sip.

Harper looked pleased with the information and he wondered if it would be enough to placate her. He didn't like divulging about Rachel, something felt weird about sharing this information and in effect sharing Harper with his ex.

"You didn't tell me what she looks like," she asked. "Do I look like her?"

The question caught him a bit off guard, and squeezed his heart in a way he hadn't been expecting.

"Was she pretty?"

"You're prettier," Finn answered quickly.

He immediately wanted to take back the words unsure if they were something he should say. He watched as a blush crept across her cheeks, and in that moment, it was like he was sitting across from a young Rachel again.

Their conversation came to a natural lull, and Finn felt the urge to stand up and stretch. He needed to collect his thoughts for a second and a bathroom break seemed like a good enough reason to step away from the table. He quickly relayed to Harper what he was doing, and with a nod from her, he stood and headed in the direction of the restrooms.

Finn was halfway across the room, when something stopped him in his tracks. It was laughter. Her laughter. Caught off guard, Finn wondered whether it was Harper's laugh, though he'd never heard her laugh so loudly before. He collected himself and began moving his legs. Then, he heard the laughter again. Again, he stopped in his tracks. In that instance, he knew.

There was no mistaking it. Instantly Finn was transported back 18 years. His head whipped around when he heard it a third time, looking around for the source.

There she was. It was her.

And it was in that moment – as she sat with her elderly fathers chatting – Rachel Berry locked eyes with the love of her teenage life.

Rachel Berry was in the same room as him.

And their birth daughter.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17  
**  
Rachel felt her throat grow thick as she continued to hold _his_ stare. The room grew impossibly warmer as she stared back.

"Finn," she whispered lowly.

His name felt so foreign on her lips; she hadn't allowed herself to utter his name out loud in years. She felt like she couldn't move from her spot, like the heat of the moment had caused her to become one with the uncomfortable chair.

"What is he doing here?' she wondered out loud.

"What is who doing here?"

It was her Daddy's voice that brought her out of her trance, and in a blink she watched as Finn turned away and continued his journey to wherever he was going.

Rachel stood up mechanically and smoothed out the long, deep red dress she had chosen before arriving at the hotel this morning to meet her fathers.

"Rachel," Hiram tried to catch her attention once more.

"I have to go to the washroom."

The words flew out of her mouth and she left the table in a flurry before either father could comment.

Rachel had no idea if she was going the right direction, she had no idea if the washroom was where he was headed, but she needed to find him. A surge of adrenaline ran through her veins as she tried to keep from running through the maze of tables. She didn't want to bring too much attention to herself, much less scare off Finn. She couldn't believe it - 18 years and here he was standing somewhere in the same room. She clenched her fists at her sides to ward off the incoming feelings of hostility.

But Finn was nowhere to be found. Maybe she'd just imagined it was him, Rachel thought. She eyed the room carefully once again and then noticed the "Restrooms" sign. She walked towards the sign which directed her into to a long corridor, off of which were the Women and Men restrooms.

When Rachel found the Men's door, she contemplated charging in just for a moment. A second of sensibility hit her, and she decided it was too crazy, even for her. She decided to simply wait there, in front of the Men's door, for a few minutes to see if Finn, or his look-alike appeared.

She crossed her arms over her chest and impatiently waited.

* * *

Finn entered the washroom, and locked himself into a stall instead of using a urinal. The stall provided him with some privacy, a safe place to chew on the hard, cold reality which had just smacked him in the face.

Rachel Berry was in the restaurant.

He rubbed his face hard, pushing the tips of his fingers over his eyes for almost a moment too long. The sting left behind did little to distract him from his racing heart and the panic induced sweat beginning to bead along his hairline.

Rachel was here.

Harper was here.

He was here.

Finn took a deep breath to calm himself, but it was no use. His hands began to shake mercilessly as he placed them palm down against his jeans. He knew he couldn't hide in the restroom forever; Harper would be expecting him back at the table in a reasonable amount of time. But if he had his way, the ground would open him up at this minute and swallow him whole.

Finn didn't want to share Harper; he didn't want to share this day with Rachel. Her name felt acidic on his tongue, and he grabbed some toilet paper to spit – as if that would help. As if the feeling was real.

His thoughts once again turned to Harper and then, her parents. What would they think about the situation? He told them all he hadn't talked to Rachel in more than 18 years and it was the truth. How was he going to explain this? He rubbed his temples, and hesitated.

"Wait a minute," he thought.

He had nothing to explain. Finn was in this restaurant as the guest of his daughter and her parents. That Rachel Berry happened to be in the same restaurant was beyond Finn's control. He blew out a small breath. 

* * *

Harper fidgeted her seat after she finished her hash browns. She twisted her napkin between her fingers, constantly watching for any sign of Finn. She worried she had scared him off. He had been gone for a few minutes, and every second that ticked by she wondered if she had done something to drive him away. She eyed her parents at their table a few steps away, and she caught them staring at her. She tossed her napkin on the table and grabbed her phone before she moseyed over to them.

"Hi sweetheart," Diane smiled softly, putting down her coffee cup. Harper smiled at her mother, and pulled out the extra chair at the table.

"Hey," she said, dropping into the chair. "Finn went to the washroom so I thought I'd come and say hi."

Both Diane and Scott smiled and nodded.

"How's it going?' Scott asked carefully.

Harper sighed deeply.

"I've learned a bit," she chewed her lip slowly trying to put into words everything she had heard from Finn in the last hour. "I learned that he wanted to keep me. He didn't say as much, but I can tell."

She instantly saw the concerned look on her parent's faces. She held up her hand slightly.

"But he knows what a good life I have with you guys, you're my parents," she said.

Diane reached for her hand and squeezed.

"He told me my birth mother's name," Harper divulged. "She was the reason he was in New York, originally. She lived here. She probably still does live here. Did you know she wanted to be on Broadway?"

Harper's nose screwed up a little as she relayed that information. She wasn't into musicals or theatre. That was more her best friend's thing.

"Finn didn't know if she ever made it though. But he did give me her name. Rachel Berry."

There. She said it finally. An invisible weight suddenly lifted from her chest as she shared the information with her parents.

"It sounds like it's been very informative," Scott smiled slowly.

Harper nodded her head as she flipped her phone between her fingers.

"I want to know more. I want to know why they weren't together when I was born and why they lived apart and…" her rambling slipped unheeded from her lips. "I want to know everything I can about who I am."

"You have him here," Diane offered. "Ask him."

"It just doesn't seem that easy, Mom," she replied. "He doesn't really want to talk about Rachel."

Scott and Diane shared a look.

"Maybe, focus on what you do have in front of you," Diane offered. She wasn't sure what else to say. "We can always go back to the registry if he won't talk about Rachel."

Harper nodded. The joke she told Finn about looking for Rachel on the internet ran over in her mind.

"I know," she whispered. "I should get back to our table. Finn should be back soon."

"Take it easy on him, okay?" Scott smiled as she stood up.

Harper nodded and noted the irony in her father's words. It seemed like a weird twist of events where her father was asking her to take it easy on Finn. It didn't really seem real. She kissed them both on the cheek before heading back to her table. She sighed loudly when she saw Finn wasn't back yet, but she tried not to worry more than she already was. 

* * *

Rachel wasn't sure what she was doing, as she stared down the door to the Men's washroom. She wasn't sure how much time had passed, but she knew that she wasn't leaving until he came out. She pulled her arms closer to her body, tugging on the red dress so it didn't bunch. She was beginning to incur many sideways glances from the waitstaff as they passed her en route from the kitchen to their tables. She jumped every time a door opened, but it was never the one she needed to open.

What was taking him so long? He had never been one to spend a lot of time in the washroom, from what she could remember. He had been a guy's guy, a little cologne, little aftershave and a big jug of shampoo/conditioner and body wash all in one in the shower.

This was silly, she battled within herself. But she couldn't shake the look in his eyes when they locked glances in the dining room. She needed to talk to him. She needed to know why he was here. Why now?

* * *

Finn knew he couldn't stay in the bathroom forever. He had heard several men come and go, punctuated by the running of water and flushing coming from the stall beside him. He didn't know if anyone realized he was there, but he knew Harper had to be getting suspicious the longer he was gone.

How was he going to explain this to her? He had just spent the better part of their meal telling her about how he hadn't talked to Rachel in 18 years. And now here she was! It surely had the potential to ruin credibility if he was to bring the two together.

Finn sighed deeply at the thought, and finally made use of the facilities before leaving the safety of the stall. He took several deep breaths as he washed his hands, to calm his racing thoughts.

"Harper's waiting," he whispered to himself as he splashed some water on his face.

One more cleansing breath, and Finn angled for the door. He knew he would have to walk past her, and he just hoped he had the strength to do so.

What he hadn't anticipated was for his former soulmate to be standing on the other side of the restroom door.

"Rachel," he whispered so lowly that he wasn't sure it was even his voice hitting his ears.

Finn watched as she stood up straighter, tugged on her dress a little bit and rested her hands clasped together at her waist.

"Finn Hudson," she said firmly, her lips mashed together in a firm line.

Hearing her voice for the first time in many years caused the hairs on the back of his neck to stand up on end. He felt a chill run down his spine as she stared at him.

"It's been a long time," she said.

"You look good," his voice was clearer, growing stronger as he stood in front of her. Her gaze was piercing, just as he remembered. She had been a determined woman when he had known her all those years ago, rising to challenges and going for her goals, even when it cost her.

"What are you doing here?" her voice came out snippy, and if he was a lesser man he would have taken the tone as his cue to vacate the hallway. She took a step forward, and he prepared himself for any physical strike she might deploy.

"In New York?" he questioned. "Or here in the restaurant?"

"Both," her voice stammered as the words slipped out. "You hate New York. At least that's what you always told me," she accused. Her eyes narrowed again.

Finn almost rolled his eyes, but decided that was the last thing he needed to do. He jammed his hands in his pockets and tried to relax his body.

"I'm just here on business," he fibbed. What was he supposed to say? I'm here to meet with our daughter?

"And what is your business, exactly?" Rachel's eyebrow arched, her interest piqued.

"I own a successful automotive shop," he answered

It was hard for Finn to hide the pride in his voice. He had worked hard to make his shop what it had become.

He noted the immediate softening in her features. In high school, Finn helped in his stepdad's tire shop during every school break, after every school day and every weekend. His love of cars had been born then. Rachel had visited him quite often during those times.

"Here?" she asked quietly.

He could see the wheels turning in her mind, and he ducked his own head and shuffled his foot to distract from the moment. He just shook his head as a response.

"No," he replied. "Out of state."

It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the whole truth, either.

It was her turn to nod. Their focus was torn away at the opening of the kitchen door.

Looking back at Rachel, Finn smiled and motioned his return back to his table. Rachel took his lead down the corridor. Suddenly she stopped, turned around and wondered aloud.

"On New Years Eve?"

Finn frowned, his eyebrows furrowing. "What do you mean?"

"Business? You're here on business on New Year's Eve?"

This time, he really did roll his eyes.

"The meeting was yesterday, Rachel," he answered.

The lies were coming easier now, and he felt himself grow uncomfortable at the notion. He watched her gently nod. He could still read her, it seemed. She was trying to poke holes in his story. In more than 18 years, it seemed she hadn't changed a bit.

Finn remembered coolly that she hated when he rolled his eyes. He studied her in the silence, even surrounded by the busy dining room. He really meant it when he said she looked good; to him she looked as good as she did the day, he had last seen her.

"So that's what it takes to bring you back to New York?"

He was startled by the venom that slipped from her mouth. The words were quiet; and another man may have missed them, but Finn knew her too well. He was taken back all those years ago, his memories riddled with words they'd exchanged over the course of their relationship, in all its versions. He could tell she was suspicious, that it wasn't adding up for her.

Finn opened his mouth to respond, the words on the tip of his tongue.

"Finn?"

He felt himself blanche at the sound of Harper's voice. Finn closed his eyes, mentally preparing himself for the inevitable collision of his daughter and her birth mother.

"Harper," he said as casually as he could muster.

Finn turned his body so he was facing both of them, his back to the only escape he had.

"I was just coming back." The words he wanted to say died on his lips as he eyed both Harper and Rachel.

A silence befell the trio, and Finn wondered how this was going to play out. He swallowed hard as he observed the two women, who to him, were his world, even if at different times.

It would be impossible for Rachel and Harper to miss the resemblance. It was striking, even for Finn as they stood so close together. His eyes wandered between the two women, flittering back and forth as he took both in. The same dark brown wavy hair, the thin build, the complexion, even the same dark, piercing eyes. Harper was taller than Rachel by almost a head, and had his bone structure, his nose. But everything else was distinctly Rachel.

"Who's this?" Rachel asked softly.

In another life Finn would have had to bury his anger towards her, but today it was different. He heard it in her voice. It weakened as the last syllable left her lips. He wondered how long it would take for realization to hit. He felt Harper's eyes boring into his side, but he just stood there, not knowing what else to do.

"I'm Harper," her voice cracked him out of his trance, his anxiety heightening as Harper extended her hand to Rachel. "Harper Richards."

Finn saw the confusion stretch across Rachel's face. He didn't say anything at first, because Rachel's face told him all he needed to know. Her emotions ran the gamut across her features, and he could tell she was trying to work out just who Harper was.

"Rachel?" Harper asked softly as emotions danced in her eyes. In another instant, her eyes widened with the realization.

"Are…are you?" Rachel whispered, her voice dropping several octaves. The words died on her lips as she stared at Harper, the same stare being reflected back at her.

"Rachel," Finn interrupted finally. "This is Harper."

He gave the words a chance to hang in the air for a moment.

"She's our daughter."

He paused in time for an audible gasp to slip from both Rachel and Harper.

"Harper, this is Rachel Berry, your birth mother," he said slowly.

"He was just telling me about you," Harper said weakly with a small smile. "Did you know she was here?"

Her voice was thick and for a moment Finn contemplated giving her a hug. But he didn't want to cross boundaries. The air hung heavy around them as each seemed frozen in their spot. And, the cacophony of noise hardly seemed audible.

"You said you didn't know where she was," Harper spoke again.

Finn watched Rachel's eyes widen, then narrow again as she refocused her stare on him.

"I didn't. Honest," he stammered a little. The weight of the stares from both women was enough to make him shake. "I haven't seen her in 18 years."

"That's right," Rachel's voice cut through like a knife. "And I would appreciate it if you didn't refer to me as if I wasn't standing right here. Right where I've been, for 18 years, Finn."

Her last words stammered out, her voice raising. Harper's eyes widened at the sound of her voice as Rachel – recognizing her tone - did her best to compose herself. Was she in a dream? She had to be in a dream, she thought to herself.

"I'm sorry, Harper," Rachel apologized sincerely, her voice softened. "Let me start over. I'm Rachel Berry, your birth mother and it is so good to see you."

Harper nodded and relaxed her shoulders made tense during the impromptu meeting.

"I've been looking for you" Harper offered.

Rachel chewed her lip, ducking her head as she did so.

Harper felt her heart skip a beat as she looked at the two people in front her: her birth parents. She was having a hard time wrapping her head around what had just happened in the last few minutes. She had gone from knowing where her birth father was and knowing _of_ her birth mother – to having both of them standing right in front of her.

"Do you want to join us?" Finn asked Rachel after several beats passed between them. "We've eaten already but…"

"I'm with my fathers," Rachel interrupted. "I really should get back to them."

"Fathers?" Harper asked exaggerating the "s".

Rachel nodded.

"That's kind of cool," Harper replied. "So then, you were adopted too, just like me?"

Rachel nodded again.

"I really should get back to them, I'm sure they're getting worried that I've fallen in or something."

She wanted a quick out from the situation. Her emotions were running at a speed she didn't recognize, as she stood in front of her birth daughter. She could feel the tensions rising to heights that she had never imagined as both Harper and Finn focused on her.

Harper reached out and touched her arm, light enough that she almost missed it but enough to catch herself.

"Can you, maybe, come sit with us?" Harper asked quietly. "Go see your father's first, of course, but I would like to talk to you too, if that's okay?" The words rambled out of her mouth. She chewed her lip nervously.

"I've been asking Finn about where I came from," she added, hoping it was enough to bring Rachel to sit with them. "I have a lot of questions, and some of them he doesn't have the answer to. I would like to hear them from you."

Harper eyed Rachel hopefully.

Finn could see Rachel struggling with how to answer. He didn't know this Rachel. He watched as she looked back in what he could only assume to be the table where her Dads were sitting. In all honesty, selfishly he didn't want Rachel to join them; but a quick look at Harper told him that would do much more harm than good in the present situation.

"Okay," Rachel answered after a few beats. "I just have to…I have to go tell them, they worry, even in their old age." She chuckled a little nervously.

"We're just sitting over there," Harper gestured to where they had abandoned their table what seemed like hours ago.

Rachel nodded.

"I'll be right there," she whispered, a quietness descending over her voice.

Finn and Harper walked back to their table. He stuck his hands in his pockets as they walked. They weaved in and out of tables to make it back to theirs, and he saw Harper hesitate as they were about to walk past where her parents were sitting, their backs to them.

"I'll meet you back at the table," Fin sighed.

He understood her relationship with her parents, and he was grateful for it, actually. He just wanted to be a part of that too. He wanted his daughter in his life.

* * *

He made his way back to their table, trying to keep himself under control. He curled his fingers in his pockets until he slid into the safety of his chair at the table.

"Can I get you a refill?"

Finn jumped when the waitress approached him from the side.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you."

Finn blew out a breath and rubbed his face. "It's fine. Do you think I could get something a little stronger than an ice tea?"

"Want to make it a Long Island iced tea?" the waitress offered.

"That sounds perfect," he replied as she skittered off to fill his order.

Finn leaned his head down in the palms of his hands and let out a deep, long sigh. He thought finding Harper, talking with Harper and now meeting with Harper would be enough to tilt his world on its very axis. It's all he ever wanted.

And now he was being forced to face the one thing, the one person, whose memory, whose very name, he had tried to forget. Rachel Berry.

* * *

Rachel's hands shook as she walked back to her table. The bracelets she wore clinked on her wrist. Her fathers were just finishing up with what looked like dessert when she returned.

"Rachel, we were wondering when you were going to come back," Hiram smiled as he coughed into his napkin.

"I was just telling him that you absolutely didn't fall in," Leroy chuckled.

It had been a running joke since she was a little girl-that she would fall in and disappear into Wonderland. A weird take on Alice in Wonderland, but it made her laugh and stuck well into adulthood.

She sat down slowly into her chair and tried to get her hands to stop shaking, grabbing for the glass of water she had left behind.

"Rachel?" Hiram enquired.

Both fathers locked their stares on her, she could feel that much. She lifted her glass to her parched lips and took a long sip of water before returning it to the table.

"Sorry," Rachel mumbled.

She gently dabbed her napkin over her lips.

"He's here."

Hiram and Leroy looked at each other, confusion written all over their faces.

Hiram spoke first. "Who's here?"

Rachel curled her fingers around the napkin.

"Finn," she answered. "Finn is here on business."

With the safety of her fathers, the wall Rachel put up with Finn crumbled.

"Song bird," Leroy reached his hand out to her and gently touched the top.

Rachel sucked in a breath.

"He's meeting with our daughter."

The words fell out of her mouth in a rush as she let go of her breath. Both men stared, silently, mouths agape. What did their daughter just say?

"Finn is here, meeting our daughter," Rachel plowed on. "Her name is Harper." Her voice cracked at the mention. "She's beautiful. And they want me to sit with them. She wants to talk to me."

Both Hiram and Leroy shared a stunned, shocked, bewildered look once more.

"So, what are you doing here?" Hiram spoke sincerely. "We were just talking about going back up to our room. Your Daddy needs a nap so he can be alert for the ball drop."

In all the commotion of facing Finn and meeting Harper, she had forgotten about the big event.

Leroy weakly hit Hiram.

"I just wasn't expecting to come face to face with him today or ever," she sighed. "Or her. Especially not her. She's beautiful."

Hiram and Leroy smiled.

"I bet she is," Hiram offered. "Probably just like you."

Rachel could only nod in agreement.

"So, again, what are you doing here?" Hiram repeated once more.

Their stares were getting to her. She knew they were waiting for her answer. Only she wasn't sure what her answer was. She took a deep breath as she focused on her empty water glass.

"I don't know," she whispered. Her hands continued to shake.

Hiram reached for her hand. "It's okay to not know, and it's okay to be scared. But I'm afraid if you don't go see her, you'll always wonder about what she wanted to know."

Rachel gently nodded, her Papa gently tugged on her hand.

"You're right," she took a deep breath.

Rachel gently turned in her seat so she could eye them from across the room. Her eyes connected to where Finn was sitting alone. How had she missed them when she walked in? She clenched her fist inwards and dug her nails into the palm of her hand for a brief moment as she caught him taking a swig from his glass, the sun bouncing off the amber liquid inside.

Rachel shook herself and turned back to her fathers.

"I'll see you guys back upstairs then," she said as she slowly stood.

She walked around the table and gave both the older men a lingering hug. She kissed both their cheeks before she stood up straight and smoothed out her dress once again.

She took another deep breath before she started towards the table.

As she approached, she noticed that Harper still hadn't made it back to Finn. She took a deep breath before swallowing as she got closer.

"Finn," she said softly.

Rachel had wanted the words to come out firmer, but she was starting to feel unsettled. While her father's words had given her comfort, the whole situation was rattling her. It had been 18 years since she had seen the man in front of her, but somehow she still felt like the young 20- something – and that 20-something was still incredibly hurt by the choices that had been made.

Finn's head shot up when he heard her voice. He had been hoping that Harper would return before Rachel approached. He swallowed hard, moving his refilled glass of iced tea out of the way, for something to do.

"Rachel."

His throat felt dry in that moment, suddenly feeling like fire ants were crawling around inside. "Harper should be back any minute," his eyes diverted to the direction where Harper at with her folks.

He watched Rachel slowly sit down in the empty chair across from him. The silence was deafening and he felt the room grow impossibly smaller as he waited.

Rachel nodded slowly, and folded her hands on the table in front of her.

"How long are you in town for?" she asked.

"Just until tomorrow," he responded lowly. That had been the plan. But he had also left it open ended, if it went well with Harper. He had left the shop closed, and had finished up all the pending jobs before he had left. His regulars knew to call, and he had even programmed the shops' number to forward to his cell phone. It hadn't gone off yet.

"So, you're not really here on business." she bit. It was more of a comment than question.

"What was I suppose to say Rachel?" Finn let out a long, loud sigh.

"The truth?"

"Because that's worked in the past?" he bit back. "I just wanted to get back to my table."

"To Harper," she added. "Our daughter."

Finn noted the way she said her name, the breathless way that it rolled off her tongue. There was a hint of un-believability to it.

"How long have you known her?" Rachel asked abruptly. Finn had barely registered her question before she asked once more.

"Um, about three months?" he said. He tried to remember back to when he had gotten the first message on Facebook. "I got a message from her just after I got a letter saying she was looking for me."

Rachel's eyes widened a little. She too had gotten that letter, from the adoption agency they had used all those years ago.

"I got that letter too," she admitted. "It didn't have a name, though."

He nodded.

"She found me. On Facebook." He cleared his throat. "She told me later her parents allowed her to sign up for a reunion agency. I'm still not sure how she got my name, but here we are," he motioned..

An uncomfortable silence descended on them, surrounding them with a thick blanket of uncertainty. He noted out of the corner of his eye that Harper was standing up from where she had been sitting with her parents. He shifted in his seat as he felt Rachel's eyes on him. The level of discomfort was rising, and he desperately wanted to take a swig of his Long Island iced tea.

"I'm sorry," Harper's voice descended on him like confetti. "My parents were trying to decide what to do. I think they're going to leave us here for a bit," she chuckled softly.

Finn noted Diane and Scott standing from their table. He gave them a slight nod, and in an instant felt a little bit of pride that they were entrusting her to him – to them. He reminded himself quickly that she was 18, not 8 as she waved them off.

"Sometimes I think they forget I'm 18. Only child problems," she chuckled, unknowingly echoing Finn's thoughts.

"Finn was an only child," she announced as she looked at Rachel. "Do you have any siblings?"

She shook her head. "No. It's always just been my fathers and I. I was adopted from birth, like you."

Harper nodded. "Did you always know you were adopted?"

Rachel nodded in a similar fashion. "Well, knowing I had two dads, it wasn't very hard to figure out."

"So you knew what it was like, to be adopted. Why did you give me up then? Finn said he wanted to keep me, and you didn't."

Rachel's eyes widened at the accusatory tone of her voice.

"Harper, that's not what I said," he interrupted.

"No, no," Rachel held up a hand. "What did he say that made you think that, Harper?" she asked slowly.

Harper looked at Finn. His brow was furrowed, and he felt his jaw clench as he looked back at her, but he tried to offer her a smile anyway. His mind ran away, replaying every word he had uttered today and tried to get his thoughts under control.

Harper chewed her lip. "He said you had dreams," she whispered lowly. "You were in school and he was broke," she paused to take a drink of her now warm water.

She turned her eyes to the table, avoiding the stares of both Finn and Rachel. She bit her lip firmly. She wanted to stuff her words back into her mouth. She had ruined it, she was sure.

"Well that part is right at least, I was in school. NYU, but I'm sure he spilled that part too," Rachel bit her tongue when her tone met her ears. "NYU was my dream school," she offered. But her explanation, to Harper, only implied to her that Finn had been right. "And I worked my butt off to get there. We weren't ready, and I wanted you to have a better life than I could offer you at the moment. I had class, day and night and Finn…" she scoffed a little, to herself. "Finn had yet to discover what exactly it was that he wanted for himself."

Even Harper could tell that Rachel's words stung. She swallowed hard herself, as she watched the reaction play across Finn's face.

"It was never about not wanting you, Harper," Rachel said. "It was always about wanting what was best for you. I'm sure you've had a wonderful life. Tell me a little about that?"

Rachel needed to reset the tone of the conversation and reign in the anger she felt building, the longer she sat across from her ex.

Harper nodded, and took a deep breath.

"My parents are wonderful," she started. "They've given me everything I could have ever wanted. Everything. I've played volleyball for years. I can't dance, but I sang in my middle school choir for a minute," she smiled. "I've had a great life. I just…wanted to know where I came from. I know who made me the way I am…but where did I come from?"

She hesitantly looked from Finn to Rachel and back again.

"I want to go to Yale. I want to study psychology. I want to know what makes people tick," she chuckled a little hoarsely.

Rachel nodded listening with rapt attention as Harper continued to tell her all about her life.

"I'm their life," she said. "Would I have been yours?"

Rachel blanched at Harper's words. She curled her hands together, knotting her fingers as they started to shake.

"Harper," she swallowed in an effort to buy herself some time.

But Harper wouldn't be deterred.

"I just want to know," Harper began. "I just want to know if, in another lifetime, maybe you would have wanted to keep me."

"Of course, " Rachel sputtered as though she couldn't answer fast enough.

It was all she could say. What other answer was there? The feeling in Rachel's chest tightened as silence descended upon the three of them. The restaurant itself was starting to empty around them, the crowd thinning and leaving to go about whatever festivities they had planned for the evening ahead. Rachel could tell with one look at Harper's face that her simple answer wasn't what she wanted, but it would suffice in the interim.

Harper flagged down a waitress and ordered a glass of water as her throat became unbelievably parched as the silence continued.

"Thank you," Harper said as the waitress arrived. "For telling me, I guess because for a long time I've struggled with knowing if either of you wanted me, and now I know the answer."

Tears formed in her eyes. She told them both the truth, for Rachel today and Finn – always. She had a good life, a great life really. Her parents had done everything for her on all fronts. Her heart ached slightly as she looked between both of them.

"But I've never been short on love. I've told Finn, and he's met my Dad," she smiled softly. "They never made me feel like I was anything other than their daughter. But now I see I look like you, Rachel. But I'm tall like Finn. And athletic like him, and I can't dance like him. Maybe I get my personality from you? In some genetic way?"

"I sing," Rachel answered. "You said you sing a little, or did. I sing for a living. I've been on Broadway since I graduated."

Truthfully, Rachel was proud of her successes and the roles she'd played ever since she graduated from NYU at the top of her class. But an audience with her daughter and ex boyfriend made her cower and hide in ways that she hasn't been aware of since she was just starting out.

"I should say, I am on Broadway," she added with a small smile. She swore out of the corner of her eye she saw Finn roll his eyes.

"Really?" Harper asked with a smile. "I mean, that's cool. My best friend Cora is going to freak out. She's a Broadway buff."

Harper chuckled a little as she thought about Cora's bedroom wall filled with Broadway posters and Playbills from the shows she had seen.

Rachel beamed a little proudly. "It's what I wanted to be from the time I could walk and talk. My dads will tell you that I could dance before I could walk. But that's enough about me," she blushed a little when she noticed Finn's attention waning. She watched from the corner of her eye as he chugged whatever as left in his cup.

"No, no," Harper smiled. "What roles have you done? Finn's told me all about his cars and his dog, Huck.".

 _Of course he got a dog,_ Rachel thought. She beat back the creeping animosity she felt as she caught him waving down their poor weary waitress and held up his cup.

"I've done Wicked, West Side Story, Frozen and I'm doing Rent now," she crowed a little more proudly. "I can get some tickets for you and your parents, if you're going to be in town for awhile."

"We're here all the time," Harper said excitedly. "We live just outside the city. Most of my parents' family lives in the city,"

Rachel's heart did a little flip. She had been here this entire time? Or in close proximity? Neither she nor Finn had been told much about where the adoptive family lived, or was from. She had dreamed, often that though they had adopted her here, they would have moved further away. Like California or something.

Rachel sighed to herself. How many times had she almost crossed her, or someone related to her? She wondered as she got quiet. The waitress arrived back, and announced they would have to close out their tabs as they would be closing up shortly to get ready for their New Years Eve buffet.

Finn sighed deeply at the announcement. He suddenly felt like he had lost track of time, as Rachel asked for the bill and Harper tried to ask for hers.

"I got it, Harp," Finn smiled softly before he picked up the glass and took a long sip of his iced tea.

He didn't miss the identical raised eyebrows from both Rachel and Harper at the shortening of her name. But when Harper didn't protest, he cheered a little inside. He had felt small during their conversation, as Harper got to know Rachel. He wasn't familiar, but if he had to put a name to it Finn would even admit that he was a little jealous.

Selfishly Finn wanted Harper all to himself, today especially. But Rachel was quickly taking over. Just as she always did. He felt himself steam a bit at the thought, as he eyed Rachel fishing for change for her water. He scoffed a little – what restaurant charged for water, anyway?

"I guess I'll text my parents, see what they're doing," Harper lamented a little as she pulled out her phone. "Let them know I'm alive," she added for comedic effect that she felt was needed in that moment. The waitress had killed the moment, and Harper felt a little desperate to get it back. She had her birth parents at her fingertips and as long as she could, she didn't want it to end.

"Why don't we go walk Time Square?" Finn announced abruptly as he handed the waitress a $50, after Rachel paid her water bill. "Work off that lunch," he laughed nervously.

With Rachel here, he wasn't quite sure if Harper would want to venture off, get to know him still.

"I'll just have to get my coat from upstairs," Harper smiled as her eyes lit up. Finn cheered in his mind. He noticed Rachel was busy finishing off the last of her water.

"Rachel, will you come with us?" Harper asked.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

It was all getting away from him so quickly, or so Finn thought. Harper had gone upstairs to collect her coat while both Finn and Rachel waited in the lobby of the hotel. They sat on benches, facing each other yet neither directed their eyes in the others direction. He noted that Rachel had her head buried in her phone, no doubt keeping her friends or even a boyfriend up to date on what was happening. Finn leaned back so his back rested against the wall, crossing his arms firmly across his chest as he waited, continuing to watch Rachel quickly tap out words on her phone, the clicking of her nails against the screen hard to miss.

This wasn't the way he pictured today going. From the moment he connected with Harper and started getting to know her, he dreamed of instant comradery and a bond he had only been able to dream about for the last 18 years.

He was caught off guard when Rachel suddenly finished her insane clicking against her screen and looked up at him.

"You know, staring is rude," Rachel clipped as she set her large iPhone into the large bag she had collected earlier from her table.

"Who said I was staring?" he sighed. He noted the venom was back in her voice. Not that he missed it while she put it away in her interactions with their daughter. Their daughter whom he now had to share, unwillingly.

Rachel arched her eyebrow; a long time ago that would have been an indication that a fight was brewing. After all these years he still knew her triggers.  
"Come on, Finn," Rachel sighed.

She sat back on her bench, leaning against the wall much in the same fashion as he was.  
"Come on, what?" The words came out annoyed, and it was hard for him to hide it. "What Rachel?"

It was her turn to sigh loudly. She sat up when she heard the way he said her name.

"Let's not fight," she lamented.

"Who said we were fighting?" he spat back.

Finn sat up straighter, leaned a little bit into his thighs as he looked across the carpet at Rachel.

Her sigh was louder this time.

"I see you haven't grown much since I saw you last," she stated, crossing her legs at her feet.

His phone dinged in that moment, and Finn was almost glad for the reprieve for whatever storm between them was about to blow into that hallway. He quickly grabbed for his phone from his coat pocket, under Rachel's very prominent stare.

"It's Harper," he announced when he read the name.

Finn saw Rachel nod methodically as he clicked the text.

"She's going to be down in a moment. Her parents were just fussing over the plans," he added as he typed out a response. Rachel's nod was a little quicker this time, and he noted the way she twisted her hands in her lap.

"I'm sure she'll give you her number, once she gets to know you a little bit more."

Rachel winced slightly at the hidden implication behind his words.

"I'm not sorry she found me first," Finn's words cut like a knife through the thick air around them. "I'm not really sure still how she got my name. All those papers the lawyer made us sign through the adoption agency made it seem like this would never be an option."

Rachel detected the bite to his words, with a side of hurt.

"Those papers gave her the life that she needed, that she deserved," she stated frankly. Rachel sat up straighter.

"How do you know what she needed, what she deserved?" Finn bit back. "You don't know her. You just met her."  
His words stung. Rachel looked down, twisting her hands in her lap for something to do. She had no comeback to his words. It was the reality behind the words that hurt the most – that she didn't know Harper, aside from what she had learned at the table. It hurt Rachel deeply to think Finn would hold this over her head now. He'd probably been holding in the anger for a while.

Rachel didn't regret giving up Harper, at least that's what she had been telling herself for 18 years. Deep down, she knew a thick fog of regret was desperate to escape. And now that she met the girl, Rachel's regret grew stronger, becoming more powerful as those buried feelings – the ones she had refused to deal with - bubbled to the surface. She couldn't change the past, as much as she wanted to now. Seeing Harper, seeing how amazing she was, how poised and put together and funny, Rachel rationalized she'd made the right decision; she had given Harper the life an unprepared 21-year-old couldn't.

Rachel looked up from her hands, replacing the frown on her face with a stoic line to her lips. She looked across at Finn, with his somewhat smug look on his face and sighed loudly.

"That's not my fault," she whispered.

"Rachel, it's all your fault," Finn accused as he stood up from his seat.

Rachel felt like all the air was sucked from her lungs. She couldn't keep the stoic line to her lips as the heaviness of his words hit her, crushing on her chest. She looked down at the floor as his words played in a loop in her mind. He was right, it was all her fault. She had put it all in motion, it was all her fault. She cleared her throat as the dinging of the bell announced the arrival of the elevator a few steps away. She couldn't swallow past the lump formed in her throat, it seemed, as Harper bounded out of the doors excitedly.

* * *

As Harper stepped off the elevator, she could sense there had been a shift between Rachel and Finn. She quickly dashed off the elevator and bounded towards them, coming to a stop between the two benches. She faced both of them, taking in the looks on their faces. She didn't need to hear whatever words had passed between them while to understand that something unkind had been shared. She felt her excitement deflate for a moment.

She didn't know their past, but the looks they were shooting each other would be enough to start a forest fire. For a moment, Harper contemplated calling it off, going back to her room with her Mom and Dad and just hitting some shops or something that was anywhere but here.

" _You wanted answers,"_ she thought to herself. She took a deep breath and harnessed the happiness from a moment ago.

"So, Time Square?" she grinned as she looked between her birth parents once more.

* * *

Finn sat on his bed, a cold beer from the mini bar clutched in his hands. He didn't think about how bad it would look to show up drunk to dinner and the ball drop. The cold beads of condensation on the aluminum can were helping calm his nerves. It was hard to admit it, but he was angry. The anger had been brewing all day, the more and more Rachel took up Harper's attention. He knew it was unfair, irrational even to want to keep Harper to himself. Afterall, Rachel was her birthmother. But he had also had expectations of how today would go, and this was not what he had envisioned.

He took a long swig of the beer which was quickly warming up in his grip. The mediocre taste of the low shelf beer stung the back of his throat. He wasn't a snob, beer was beer, but he was used to a higher quality. He eyed the can in his hand. It would do. His nerves were shot, and he was quickly turning down a road he hadn't met in awhile.

He took another swig as the clock ticked away on the wall in front of him. He was supposed to meet everyone, including Rachel now, downstairs in an hour for dinner. It had been in the original plans, but since Rachel showed up she had managed to squeeze them into some more upscale restaurant that wasn't far. He hadn't protested in the moment, before checking out the restaurant on his phone. He hated stuffy restaurants, and hadn't really packed for such an occasion either. He only relaxed when he determined that it was a somewhat relaxed environment, but would blow his trip budget out of the water if he wanted to have a good steak

Rachel shut the door behind her with a click. The suite was cloaked in quiet and bathed in dark. She hadn't left any lights on when she left earlier. Hell, she hadn't anticipated running into her ex-boyfriend, no less her daughter that she gave up for adoption. She dropped her purse on the bureau and flopped down on the bed, rubbing her temple as she did. Rachel squinted her eyes as the mascara she had hastily put on this morning ran into her eyes. She reached blindly for a tissue on the side of the bed before sitting up to wipe at her tearing up eyes.

 _What a day_ , she sighed as she fiercely rubbed at her eyes before tossing the tissue back onto the pillow beside her. Her eyes still burned, but the feeling wasn't as intense as it had been moments before. She laid back so her head rested on the plush pillow behind her as she attempted to wrap her head around what had happened today. It was supposed to just be a nice, quiet New Years Eve with her fathers. She had spent New Years Eve with them for as long as she could remember, a select few years the exception.

She looked around for her phone as she laid there, staring at the ceiling. Her father had sent her a text, letting her know where to find them if she was able to catch up with them. They were throwing their own little party on the balcony of their suite across the hallway. She chuckled out loud at the message itself. Her fathers may be aging rapidly, but they were still as loud and boisterous as ever. She wouldn't be able to miss them when they really got going if she tried. She quickly responded to their text to let them know she was back, despite earlier telling them she was probably going to hit the ball drop.

Rachel didn't feel like heading out to the ball drop anymore. Dinner had taken a lot out of her. She had managed to squeeze them into a higher end restaurant, not that the one Harper's parents had picked wasn't great. Hell, she had eaten there a million times in the early days of her career. She had made the suggestion and inevitably the arrangements to fit their party of five. She hadn't meant anything by it, it was just the way she showed how much she cared.

It had been nothing like she had imagined. Not that she had a lot of time to conjure up exactly what it would be like to go to dinner with her daughter she gave up for adoption, the parents who raised her and her ex-boyfriend, who she didn't specifically have any good feelings towards.

Rachel had left the hotel earlier than everyone else. They had gone their separate ways in the lobby of the hotel when they finally made it back after their afternoon in Times Square. If she thought she was emotionally spent then, she was even more so now. She had had just enough time once she arrived at the restaurant to order and drink an entire glass of white wine before Harper and her parents arrived.

She liked them. She had liked them over 18 years ago when she had picked them, first from a book and then in person. It had been the hardest decision she had ever made, choosing a home for unborn daughter. But Scott and Diane Richards had made her comfortable in the first few moments then, and they had done the same when they walked into the restaurant and came face to face with her for the very first time since. The wine had warmed her insides enough to smile brightly when they came in, and the way Harper's face lit up when she saw her made her feel like everything had fallen into place.

The two of them had spent a good chunk of their tour of Times Square getting to know one another. Rachel felt confident in how much she had learned about her brilliant daughter in their travels – she knew she loved the likes of John Mayer and while she was intrigued by her career in Broadway, she wasn't really interested in fangirling so to speak over her successes and the roles she had played.

But they had barely had time to say hello, reintroduce themselves, before Finn presented himself at the table. She sighed deeply, as the waitress appeared at their table side to take drink orders. She decided then and there she would need the wine, impressions be damned. Just one quick glance at Finn from the side told her she was going to need it.

Diane and Scott followed her lead, each ordering their own glass of wine to start. Rachel smiled broadly, feeling more comfortable in the situation despite the uneasiness forming due to Finn's presence. She could smell a mix of beer and minty fresh toothpaste on his tongue when he uncomfortably sat beside her. She wished in that moment, despite the delight of being in the presence of her daughter – that she could be sitting anywhere but right beside him.

For what it was worth, both Diane and Scott acted as if there was nothing unusual about sitting across from their daughter's birth parents. They had been nothing but polite, asking questions to both of them and laughing when Harper told them a funny anecdote from their time together this afternoon. They seemed interested in what she did and how she got to be where she was in Broadway. She found common interests like baking with Diane – she even promised to share her banana bread recipe with her – but it was Harper who suggested coming up to their home in the suburbs and having a bake off. Rachel couldn't hold back the tears of happiness that brimmed in her eyes at the suggestion.

A knock on the door pulled Rachel back into the present. She shook her hair a bit, waiting to see if another knock was coming. It did.

Rachel sighed deeply and slid slowly off the bed. "I'm coming!" she called as she made her way. The knocking persisted, and she felt her annoyance starting to rise as she quickly unfastened the chain to open the door. "I said I was coming!" she announced as she opened the door. "Oh, it's you," she whispered when she came face to face with Finn. "Hi Finn," she sighed softly.

"You have some nerve," he hissed as he stood in front of her. Rachel's eyes widened a little at the tone of his voice, so much so that she took a step back subconsciously from the door. It wasn't completely lost on her that she had never shared with Finn that she was staying in a suite; but as quick as the thought entered her mind, she forced it away.

"I'm sorry?" she murmured slowly as he followed her into the room uninvited.

"You have some nerve," he repeated as he shut the door behind them, the latch connecting with a loud click. He chuckled in a way that caught Rachel off guard as she watched him stalk into the room further. She watched as he took in her suite, with her things spread all around, making the room look lived in and used.

"Finn, I think you should go. Get some water, some rest," she offered gently. It was becoming apparent that although he had only had one drink with dinner, he was drunk.

He snorted in response. "You know everything, don't you?" he snapped.  
Rachel opened and shut her mouth a few times as his words sunk in. "I think you've had too much to drink," she whispered.

"Don't tell me what I've done!" his response was loud, booming. She was sure the other suites had probably heard him. "Let me tell you about what you've done. You've ruined my life!" he exclaimed as his fists bunched at his sides, his eyes got wide and she swore she saw veins bulging in his neck. At one time in her younger years she had thought that was sexy. Now, it frightened her.

"Finn, I haven't seen you in 18 years," she replied calmly. "I…let's talk, okay? I'm sorry I said you've been drinking."

She wanted to take a hold of the situation, bring it down. Get him to leave. She felt herself growing increasingly uncomfortable with the way he was standing in front of her.

He chuckled, the sound foreign to Rachel. She badly wanted to sit down, her feet aching from all the walking she had done today. But her fight or flight instincts were on high alert as Finn stared her down, his shoulders square and his jaw clenched.

"You just have an answer for everything today, huh?"

"What is that supposed to mean?" She bit her lip. The biting tone of his words wasn't lost on her.

The chuckle reappeared. "It means whatever you want it to mean, Rachel."

Rachel sighed deeply then. It was evident they were going no where fast with this conversation. "Well, then I think you should leave. Since you've figured out where I'm staying somehow, maybe we can talk when you're sober."

"No. Now," his voice was booming and loud. "You didn't give me a choice 18 years ago, why should I give you a choice now?"

His words felt heavy when they hit her ears. "I didn't give you a choice?" she retorted. "You didn't give ME a choice, Finn! You spent all your time doing God knows what, with God knows who in Ohio when all I wanted was for you to be with ME in New York,"

He cut her off. "Fuck you!" he growled. "Don't you dare imply I wasn't faithful to you when we were together."

"Well, you weren't around when I needed you!" Her voice raised an octave, and she wondered if her Dads could hear for a brief minute before she continued on. "Remember when I called you? Huh? To tell you I was pregnant? What were you doing, at that moment?" she fired back. When he was silent, she continued. "So now you're quiet? Do you remember Finn? Remember how I cried into your voicemail, terrified? Pleading with you to call me back? How long did it take you to call me back?" she punctuated her words with a stab of her finger in his direction.

"Three days. It took you THREE days to call me back. Remember now?" her lip quivered. "I was terrified and you couldn't bother to call me back because you were at Puck's, getting drunk."

She was trying her hardest not to break down, not to cry in front of the man who once upon a time she thought maybe she would get to spend the rest of her life with. The man who had let her down so many times. Her lip trembled as her resolve broke.

"In those three days I cried. I cried until my voice was hoarse. I didn't go to class. A baby wasn't in our plans. Not mine, ours. You floated around between New York and Ohio like some transient. I couldn't raise a baby with _that_." She sniffled. "But you weren't around! You weren't around and I had to make decisions because my entire future and our child's entire future hung in the balance and you were no where to be found."

She paused there, because she could feel her throat starting to ache as she tried to keep herself from crying. Rachel took a minute to catch herself up, taking a deep breath. Finn still stood in front of her, hands clenched but his stance seemed a little less defensive. Her intent hadn't been to weaken him. She had a lot of pent up feelings, a lot of frustration she had buried deep within herself for 18 years.

* * *

Everything she had said, was true. The bullets of truth that Rachel aimed in his direction held every piece of truth that he had been running from for the last 18 years. Finn tried to remain stoic, hard wired and hard lined as he watched her crumble in front of him.

He had made mistakes. He was man enough to admit that, and most of those mistakes had cost him the life he had known. Straight out of high school, he had no idea what he was going to do with the rest of his life. He had struggled with who he was without the labels high school had provided him; jock, glee club stud, Rachel's boyfriend, the boy who didn't have a dad. Once they had graduated, he had spent the summer trying to become who everyone, including Rachel expected him to be. All of in spite of the fact that he had no idea who that was.

Rachel wanted him to follow her to New York, become the dutiful boyfriend who waited on her hand and foot. He had no desire to live in New York. New York was too big, too loud and too fast – at least that had been his first impression from a class trip they took. Ohio was fast enough for him, and in the end, he had even run from that.

And he had, followed her. For a little bit, in the early days. It wasn't easy, living in the tiny loft her Dads had rented for her. He had had to duck his head every time he wanted to take a shower in the tiny bathroom, and the space for anything other than his essentials was hard to come by. He told himself in those early days he would get used to the cramped space, but the feelings of resentment had overtaken any positive he could have thought of.

His only answer was running back to Ohio, back to his childhood bedroom and away from the one woman he told himself he loved.

He was good at running. That hadn't been the first time he had done it.

He had spent a good amount of time, as she said, floating between New York and Ohio. He didn't belong anywhere. He was lost, he had no purpose. He wasn't even wanted at home, he felt. His mom and Burt had a whole life, that since both he and Kurt were out of high school, didn't involve them. Burt didn't even want him at the tire shop after awhile, he could only help so much without formal training. He spent any free time he had with his best friend, Puck, who like him had yet to find his calling, aside from having a full fridge of beer in his mother's basement.

"I ran," he whispered.

The room had gone quiet, the only sound coming from the clock that hung on the wall, the tick of the hands annoying, yet calming against the silence that had enveloped them.

"That's right. You ran."

Her words were firm, yet shook under the weight of what she confirmed. He could hear the crackle in her words.

"You ran away when I needed you the most."

She wiped at her eyes, willing away the tears brimming at her lash line.

"Why did you run?" she whispered.

"I was scared," he admitted. "I was failing at life and…"

"And I wasn't scared? That's not an excuse!" she stomped her foot.

"I know, okay? I know. I was a coward," the words spat off his tongue. "I was a coward and I ran because I didn't know what I wanted and you seemed to have all the answers! You always had the answers and for a really, really long time I hated you for that. I hated that you've always known what to do, what you wanted out of life and I was stuck standing on your coattails and then you called and I was...I was just stunned and I didn't know what to do. And suddenly, you did," he whispered.

"You think I had all the answers?" Her voice trembled. "You really think I wanted to give her up? That my heart didn't break, every time I went for an ultrasound and looked at her tiny toes and her fingers on the screen and just knew…I just knew that I couldn't raise her myself?"

"You wanted Broadway," he accused.

"I wanted YOU! I wanted US!" she shouted. "But you left me."

Rachel broke down, the dam that had been holding her tears back gave way to a torrent of tears which streamed down her cheeks.

"You left me. After she was born, and they took her home and away from me, you left me."

Finn ducked his head down, staring at the scuffed black shoes he had worn to dinner.

"You left and I couldn't find you," she continued.

Finn didn't know what to say. She was right, he had run. He had left in the middle of the night, packed his one bag and left the apartment as quietly as he could. The emotions had been too much. He had consoled her, in the 48 hours he had been with her at the apartment, but it was all too much.

"Where did you go?" she asked. "I just want to know…where was more important than with me."

He sighed deeply.

"I didn't have a plan. I just picked the first plane that left and that's where I went. Turned out it was Oregon, and I've been there ever since."

It was like all the fight left his body. Finn took two steps and slumped into the sitting chair behind him. A hot rush of breath left his mouth as he collapsed, the weight of the conversation leaving his body with it.

Rachel stood in front of him, her arms crossed and the bottom lip tucked between her teeth.

"Oregon. You've been in Oregon, this whole time?"

When he nodded, she dropped her arms and collapsed back into the bed that was right behind her. Her legs dangled over the edge as she brought her hands up to her face, again, using the palm of her hands to massage her eyes.

Rachel had looked for him. She had called everyone they knew, including his parents and even their old Glee club teacher. No one had seen him. Not even his step-brother. He had disappeared without a trace, and eventually, his cell phone number had been disconnected and the months had passed quickly enough that eventually there was too much distance between their last conversation.

"I needed space," Finn whispered lowly after a long period of silence had deafened around them.

"I don't care about what you needed. You broke me," Rachel replied, her voice cracking.

She reached up to push her fingertips into her eyes to stop the tears from surfacing. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing their conversation was getting to her.

"Do you know how that felt?" she questioned. "When I woke up and you weren't there? Or when the calls went unanswered? When even your mom told me she had no idea where you were?"

Rachel sat up abruptly, pulling her body into a sitting position on the bed so she could bring her knees to her chest.

Finn grimaced at the mention of his mother, and it took nothing for Rachel to notice the way he flinched.

"I looked for you for six months. Six MONTHS, Finn! Everyone told me to give up, forget about you – move on. But I couldn't. Every time my phone rang, or I got an email or I went back to Lima to visit my fathers, I looked. I hoped. I prayed. I failed classes, I didn't sleep. I lost weight, though some would count that as a blessing because I got huge when I was pregnant.

"I stood by you, even when you weren't there," she continued. " I checked hospitals and motels and anywhere else I could think of. But eventually, I got tired. Tired of trying to hold on to the illusion that you would come back to me. Then the anger really set in."

"I'm sorry." Finn's words were quiet, but Rachel heard them. She swallowed hard as she looked at him. What meant the most was that he didn't follow with an excuse.

"That's it?" she whispered. "You're sorry? Just hours ago, you said it was my fault."

He nodded slowly, but dropped his eyes to the ground.

"I was angry." She opened her mouth to say something in response but he lifted his hand before he raised his head. " Mad at myself. And I've been taking it out on you for 18 years."

Rachel heaved a little at the admission. She flattened her legs against the mattress and ran the palms of her hands along the material of her sweatpants as she waited with baited breath for him to speak again.

"I've been doing that too," she admitted as she played with a loose thread on the bottom of her shirt.

Finn nodded his understanding. Enough had been said between them that he understood where she was coming from with no further explanation.

Her phone beeped from beside her, signaling an incoming text. Rachel blindly grabbed for it, and smiled when she saw it was a text from Harper, wishing her a Happy New Year. She had attached a picture of herself with those funny sunglasses you could always find in Time's Square.

"Harper?" Finn asked softly. Rachel nodded her response as she typed out a message in return – promising to meet up with them before they left.

"She gave me her number when we were walking around," she offered, remembering the comments from earlier.

"She's amazing," Finn commented. "She reminds me so much of you, at that age…" he smiled.

Rachel felt herself blush. She took a deep breath as she felt the tightening in her chest lighten as she saw Finn crack a small smile.

"Except she's quite a bit taller," he winked as Rachel laughed in return.


End file.
